The Law Firm of LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington, LLC
by amandagm
Summary: AH. Sookie is a new lawyer at the firm of LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington, in Shreveport. What will she do when she gets conscripted by the overachieving, overbearing partner, Eric Northman? I had too much fun writing Dead and Back, so this is my second stab at fanficdom, and all human to boot. Be kind.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Interview with a Lawyer

I'm standing in front of my bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on my makeup. I step back and take a good look at myself. My blonde hair is in a low chignon knot and I am wearing my navy skirt with matching suit jacket, a white shell top and some sensible two inch navy pumps. It is one of the few nice interview outfits that I have to my name. My outfit screams conservative interview suit, right down to my faux pearl stud earrings and my minimalist makeup, but this is the look I'm aiming for. I'm a third year law student at LSU, and today is a very important day for me – on-campus interviews. Some of the biggest and best law firms in the area are coming to campus to interview third year law students for new lawyer positions, starting in the summer. I've got three interviews lined up today and the competition is tough. The legal field hasn't bounced back completely from the recession yet, and firms, even the big ones, are hiring fewer new lawyers. And even though it's only late January, most firms make their summer hiring decisions now. Their decisions are based on everything my fellow classmates and I have done our first and second years of law school. If I am lucky enough to get an offer, I just need to not screw up too badly my third year, or else the firm may withdraw its offer of employment. And I need a job, badly.

I'm from a little town in Louisiana called Bon Temps. My parents died in a flash flood when I was just seven years old. After that, my Gran raised me and my older brother Jason. My parents didn't leave us much when they died, and if it wasn't for the mineral rights that my Gran had on her land, I don't know how we would have made it. Gran did her best by us, but make no mistake about it, we are poor. There were times when I had to wear Jason's hand me downs, money was so tight. It seemed that no matter what we did, we always lived hand to mouth, paycheck to paycheck, whatever colloquialism you can think of to describe being poor, that was us. When I was about ten years old, I told myself that I was not going to grow up and live like this; I am not going to be poor my whole life. I saw what the low wage jobs in Bon Temps got you… a trailer, maybe a double wide if you were lucky, and an old beat up pick-up truck. And if a couple of kids come along? No sir, not for me. Even a job at the lumber mill, which has benefits, doesn't get you more than a small ranch house out in Hot Shot. No thank you. Don't get me wrong, I'm not greedy. I have simple tastes, but having to decide whether to eat or have heat is not a choice I care to make for myself, and believe me, Gran and I have had to make that choice before.

Growing up, I also knew I didn't want to be like many of the women in my small town … dependent on a man for my economic well-being. Why, look at Arlene Fowler. She just goes from man to man. When she has one, times are good, but when she loses him, she falls on hard times. No sir. I don't need a man to provide for me. Gran's done it, although it's been hard since she lives on a fixed income, but I know I can do it too. I don't intend on becoming a kept woman, or one of those women who need a man to be her world. That is why I avoided dating in school and instead focused on my studies. And it's paid off. I got good grades, and went on to college and now law school. Oh sure, it's been tough both in terms of money and just the fact that law school is hard, but between some scholarship money and my student loans, I'm doing it, and I'm doing pretty well too. In our last class rankings, I was in the top 5 in my class and I'm editor-in-chief of the law journal. Now, I just need to line up a job and not screw up my third year.

After one last appraisal, I nod my head to myself in approval and head out into the living room. Amelia, my roommate and fellow classmate, is sitting on the couch, Indian style, in some comfy flannel pajama bottoms and a pink tank top. She is drinking a cup of tea and reading a very thick law school text book, Corporations I think. "So, how do I look," I ask her. Looking up from her book, Amelia takes a moment to appraise me and then says with approval, "You look very professional Sookie. I just know you're going to get a job from these on-campus interviews." Of course, Amelia doesn't have to worry about on-campus interviews. She already has a job lined up at a prestigious blue blood Chicago law firm, courtesy of her wealthy father's connections.

"Okay, well then I'm off. Wish me luck," I say trying to sound upbeat, but my stomach is in knots.

"Sookie, any firm would be stupid not to hire you. Your academic credentials are great, and you look great. You are going to do fine. You don't need any luck. Just be yourself," Amelia said with a warm smile and I know that she really means it. I've always been able to read people pretty well. It's a gift.

…

When I get to school, the building is buzzing with activity. People in black, brown, dark gray and navy suits are milling around everywhere, holding file folders that undoubtedly contain resumes, references and writing samples, the weapons of all wanna be lawyers. The career services office has set up interview tables in several of the classrooms and people are nervously shuttling about from room to room, interviewing with the different firms that are on campus. Most of the law firms here today are big firms, but there are a few small boutique firms too. My first two interviews are at large New Orleans firms and my third is at a Shreveport law firm. My preference would be to get hired at the firm in Shreveport. It is large and prestigious, like the New Orleans' firms, but Shreveport is also closer to my Gran's house. I could stay with her until I find a place to live in Shreveport, and I won't have to pay any rent. Also, when I move to Shreveport, I could visit Gran more often than if I were to take a job at a firm in New Orleans.

The first two interviews go off without a hitch. The lawyers conducting the interviews seemed impressed with my credentials and I feel pretty good that I'll get an offer from at least one of them. As I'm walking down the hall to my third interview, I look down at my interview schedule to make sure I know which room my third interview is in, and then I suddenly walk into a wall of Armani. Literally, it is a massive black Armani wall. I bounce right off it and my papers go flying through the air. Suddenly, a large hand reaches out and catches my arm, just barely keeping me from unceremoniously falling on my rear. The large hand pulls me up to standing and I notice that it is attached to the Armani wall, which is attached to a very tall, large, blonde haired, blue eyed, man. He's breathtaking and for a moment I can't even find the words to say thank you. My Gran would be so disappointed in my lack of manners. The time it takes me to look up from the hand to the face feels like a year. My god he's tall. And angry.

"Watch where you're going! You could have hurt someone!" he barks. Suddenly, I feel cowed, then a little mad at his rudeness.

"I'm sorry!" I fire off angrily, and then remembering myself, I say more calmly, "It was an accident...and thank you for catching me." The last part comes out in a soft rush of air.

The angry Armani wall seems surprised by my fiery, then more polite, response, and pauses for a moment as if he's turning it over in his head. "Well, make sure it doesn't happen again," he says finally, in a slightly softer tone. After a moment, I look down at the angry Armani wall's hand, which is still holding onto my arm, and then I look back up again at the now less angry blue eyes staring down at me. After a moment, the Armani wall seems to realize he's still holding my arm and he releases it quickly. With a quick nod, he walks off in the other direction. I stand there in the hall and turn to watch him leave. I can't believe such a brief exchange could contain so many emotions … anger, surprise, indignation, and maybe something else. After a moment, I have to shake my head in a vain attempt to clear it. After picking up my papers, I decide I need a quick trip to the restroom to make sure I'm still presentable before my next interview. After straightening my suit, smoothing the skirt and tucking away stray hairs that came loose from my encounter, I'm presentable again.

I stride out of the restroom and to the interview room. As I approach the door, my nerves return. I swallow deeply and knock loudly three times on the door. A male voice calls out, "Come in," and taking a deep breath, which I exhale slowly, I enter the interview room. As I take in the room, I see a long table with three chairs around it that career services has set up for the interview. On the side of the table closest to me is one empty chair, my chair. On the other side of the table are two chairs which are occupied by two men in dark suits. A dark haired, dark eyed man sits to my right and, much to my horror; my angry Armani wall is sitting on the left. Wait, what? Okay, not "my" angry Armani wall, but the angry Armani wall. I'm certain that all of the color has completely drained from my face as I take in my interviewers. The angry Armani wall has the nerve to smirk at me. Seriously, who does that? That was enough to bring me back to myself. I close my mouth, which had been hanging open, catching flies as Gran would say, square my shoulders and walk forward with my hand extended, and introduce myself. "Good afternoon gentlemen. I'm Sookie Stackhouse."

"Good afternoon Ms. Stackhouse. My name is Bill Compton and this is my colleague Eric Northman." And so the interview begins.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N – Unfortunately I won't probably get to update this story as often as I'd like. I've had a family emergency and will be out of the country for a little while, but I promise I'll at least try to write the story even if I don't get chapters posted while I'm away.**

Chapter 2 - Interviews Suck

After shaking their hands, with just the right amount of firmness - you know, not too weak, which says I'm not an assertive person, but not too strong, which says I'm overbearing and lack self awareness - I sat down in my seat. I straightened my back, placed my folder on the table in front of me, crossed my ankles under my chair and waited. However, neither Mr. Compton nor Mr. Northman made any effort to speak. They just sat there staring at me, like I was a big ole juicy steak. It was kind of disconcerting. After an awkward moment, I cleared my throat and began, "Mr. Compton, Mr. Northman, thank you both for choosing me for an interview today. I have extra resumes and writing samples with me, but it appears you may already have them," I pointed, indicating the stacks of paper in front of each man.

"Please Sookie … may I call you Sookie?" Mr. Compton asked, although with his accent it sounded more like Sook-eh. I nodded and then he continued, "Call me Bill."

"Okay Mr. … I mean Bill …" I floundered. This was not going well. I also noticed that Mr. Northman was not giving me permission to call him Eric. The first 3 minutes of this interview had already given me enough to chew over for a whole week!

"Sookie, you have excellent credentials … you're in the top 5 of your class, you got the highest grade, or booked, Evidence and Civil Procedure, you had your student note published, and you serve as editor in chief of your law journal, I guess my question to you is, why do you want to join LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington? I figure a girl like you could easily get yourself a job right here in New Orleans at another big firm. New Orleans is an exciting place for a young woman like you, lots of young singles, vibrant nightlife…" and he asked the question almost like it was a proposition. Aside from being completely sexist and condescending, it was just plain weird. Something just seemed off about Bill and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. All the while, my … I mean the … Armani wall sat there as quiet and as still as a statue. Even his blinking was almost imperceptible; he could have easily been confused for one.

"Well … Bill… I am applying to two other New Orleans firms, but I'll be frank, LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington is where I'd like to be. Your firm is well known for its premiere litigation practice group, which is the area of law that I would like to practice in. I like that you have a female managing partner of your firm. That tells me that women can move up the ranks. Finally, I'm originally from Bon Temps and have family there. Working at your firm would allow me to be closer to them," I said, ticking off my reasons.

At that Bill's eyes lighted. "You're from Bon Temps? Why, my family hails from Bon Temps. You wouldn't perhaps know the Bon Temps Comptons would you? Jesse Compton, a distant relative of mine, still lives there."

"Jesse Compton is my Gran's neighbor. He lives just on the other side of the cemetery from us," I replied.

"Why, what a small world it is Sookie," Bill smiled, giving me a toothy grin. Although I was still feeling uncomfortable, I started to allow myself to think that maybe, just maybe, this interview wasn't completely lost. But I knew my internal voice had spoken too soon, because that is when Mr. Northman decided to join the conversation.

"While all of this is quite charming and, coincidental, Ms. Stackhouse, I have a question for you. Your student note was on racial profiling in places of public of accommodation, and your article calls for a new cause of action or lessened burden of proof on plaintiffs who file such claims, due to the fact that such discrimination can be insidious and thus, hard to prove, but don't you think that is a radical departure from established law?" he asked, giving me a pointed look. Mr. Northman finally deigns to speak, and he challenges my note's premise. I think I may throw up.

After some brief internal cheering, my inner lawyer finally finds her voice, "Well, Mr. Northman, I don't think that what I've proposed is radical … a departure perhaps, but not radical. Separate but equal was the law of the land for many years, but when it was proven ineffectual at addressing racial discrimination, the laws changed. New laws were enacted and new case law decided in its place, all to address the fundamental issue of racial discrimination. The issue remains the same, although the methods we go about to achieve our goals may change if they prove ineffective. But if you think that what I've proposed is a radical departure from existing law, then I suppose that the answer to your question is yes. Basically Mr. Northman, if the laws need to be revisited now because the social injustice that they aimed at eliminating still exists, then I think a radical departure from existing law is exactly what we need." And with that, I arched my brow, giving him his pointed look right back at him. Of course, Mr. Northman then smirked at me, causing me to blush. And I don't mean a light flushing. I could feel the heat rising up my chest, to my neck, and to my face, just like I was a cartoon character who stepped in some steaming hot water. It was so distracting, I had to avert my eyes from his penetrating gaze.

After another long awkward pause, Mr. Northman said, "Well Ms. Stackhouse, I believe I've heard all I need to hear. Bill?" And with that dismissal, I felt my heart fall into the pit of my stomach.

"I don't have anything else either. Sookie, do you have anything you would like to add before we wrap up here," Bill asked. I managed a weak smile and eeked out "No."

"Well then, we'll be in touch. We will be making our decisions in about four weeks and you can expect to hear from us then," Bill said. Then both men rose and I followed, shaking their outstretched hands with a weakened shake that would have shamed my career counselor. In my dazed state, I turned and walked out the door.

Once outside the room, with the door soundly closed behind me, I ran to the law journal office, my place of refuge at school. I threw my folder on my desk and collapsed in my chair, resting my head in my hands. What the hell just happened? Did I just mouth off to a partner at a law firm that I want to hire me? Why wasn't I even just a little more deferential? I could have delivered my response a little softer, right? Oh, wait. That's right, I'm Sookie Stackhouse and I just don't do that. It's not in my DNA, no matter how hot the guy is, and boy, Mr. "Wall of Armani" Northman, is one pretty hot guy, angry or not. Of course, now I've pissed him off, twice, so I'd say the odds of me getting that job are slim to none. After playing the interview over in my head a few more times, testing different "what if" scenarios, I decide to accept that it was not my best interview and move on with my life. At least I think I'm going to get an offer from at least one of the other firms I interviewed with today, so all is not lost. With my renewed perspective, I took out my phone and speed dialed Amelia.

"Hey Sook," she answered, "How'd it go?"

"Fine… well, or not… whatever. Anyway, I can't talk about it right now. I want you to get yourself ready, we're going dancing." I can't sing worth a lick, but I sure can dance and right now, dancing is what I need to get myself as far away from those interviews as possible. I'm met with a loud squeal from Amelia and I know she's in.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Dancing the Night Away

The club was packed with hot, heaving, sweaty bodies, and Amelia's and mine were among them. For me, dancing really is the best form of therapy. I can leave all my cares at the door and dance until I can't think anymore. It is such a rush, releasing control of my body to the music. And the music here was hot. Amelia picked a new club in the French Quarter called After Life and the DJ was living up to the Club's pre-opening hype. I could already tell we'd be coming back here again.

We'd been at the club for about an hour when I leaned in towards Amelia and shouted, "I'm getting a drink, want something?"

"Cosmopolitan!" she yelled. I nodded my head and headed for the bar, but I quickly stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting at the bar, giving me a creepy leer was Bill Compton. Wow, was he watching me dance? I suddenly felt very self conscious. It wasn't that I was wearing anything inappropriate, at least not for a club. I was wearing tight, low cut jeans, a gold halter top that was a little short and showed off some midriff, and ankle boots. However, given the contrast between my conservative interview suit from earlier in the day, I felt practically naked. I also thought about some of my dance moves, which were less than polite, especially when Amelia and I start to bump and grind against each other, and I was silently sending a prayer up to the sweet baby Jesus that Bill hadn't seen any of that, although, by the look I was getting, I was sure he had.

I remembered then that the club had another bar on the upper level and I turned on my heel to get our drinks from that one instead. And that's when it happened. I bumped right into a tall wall of muscle. The muscle was covered by a fitted black t-shirt, and as my eyes made the achingly slow trek north, I came face to face with Mr. Northman. He looked at me with his trademark smirk and said, "Fancy bumping into you here." My shock gave way to giggles and I just couldn't stifle my snicker. "Do you want a drink?" he asked.

Before I could even think, I blurted out "I was just on my way to get me and my friend a drink." And then I could have kicked myself. Did he want to buy my drink? What about Amelia's drink? I couldn't ask him to do that, that's rude. Did he want me to come with him? Did he want to stay and talk? After an awkward moment, I gave up and shouted, "See ya!" and walked past him. I looked back just once, and he stood exactly where I had left him, standing in the middle of the dance floor, and he was shaking his head. He was standing with his back to me, so I couldn't see his face. I hoped I didn't offend him.

I felt a bad, but just a little. For as beautiful as Mr. Northman is, I have a plan and I've almost achieved it. Work hard, graduate from law school, get a job, and make my career. I haven't let men distract me from that goal so far, and I'm too close to it now to let that happen. I headed to the upstairs bar and got a gin and tonic for me and a Cosmo for Amelia and then headed back down to the dance floor. I made my way to her and handed her her drink.

Amelia and I continued to dance, but I lost my groove. I could see Bill and Mr. Northman standing at the bar looking out at the dance floor. Bill was still looking at me with an unnerving amount of attention. After a while, Mr. Northman seemed to notice and he leaned in and said something to Bill in his ear. Bill then looked up at Mr. Northman with a very tense look and walked down towards the end of the bar. I didn't notice if Bill looked in my direction the rest of the night. At some point, he ended up talking to a red head with way too much make up and way too little clothes for the weather. I'm not quite sure, but I think they left together. At some point, Mr. Northman left too, but I didn't see him leave. Just after midnight, Amelia and I left for home to hang up our dancing shoes.

Two days later, I got an offer of employment from LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington LLC, with a starting salary of $100,000 per year.

…

After getting my offer of employment, I was determined not to do anything to screw up my last year of law school and jeopardize my offer. If I had been focused and driven before, it was nothing compared to how I was now. After a few weeks, Amelia began to complain that I was no fun, and she was right. I wasn't any fun. It wasn't about fun. It was about achieving my goals, and I was so close, I could taste it.

...

Graduation came and went. Gran cried because not only was I the first person in our family to graduate from college, I was the only person in our family with a post-graduate degree. She had every right to be proud. Gran raised us, so this was just as much her degree as mine in my mind. Jason sulked because his baby sister had done something that he hadn't done, and he wasn't the center of attention. He was like that, but he is my brother and I love him. Plus, I'm genetically obligated to like him and forgive him for being an ass, which he is, quite often.

After graduation, Amelia moved to Chicago to study for the Illinois state bar, since that's where she would be practicing. I missed her terribly, but we promised that after we had a year of work under our belts, we were going to take a much needed and deserved girls vacation. I moved back in with Gran to study for the bar. I also signed up for a bar review course that was being taught in Shreveport. That's where I met Alcide Herveaux. On the first day of bar review I was running late. I had agreed to make sandwiches for Gran's Descendents of the Glorious Dead meeting that she was hosting at the house and that took longer than I expected. Then traffic on the way to Shreveport was a nightmare. By the time I got to the review class, almost all of the seats were taken. I stood there at the front of the room, looking around, when I heard a deep voice say, "You can sit here." I looked down and to my left and there was Alcide, giving me a nice smile and indicating the empty chair next to him on his right. Since I was late, we didn't get to talk much. I just gave him a polite smile and sat down. But at a break we started to tell each other all about ourselves. Turns out, Alcide went to law school at Ole Miss, but his family is from Shreveport and he was moving home.

"So Sookie, do you have a job lined up yet?" Alcide asked. It was a legitimate question. Many of my fellow classmates didn't get offers due to the poor job market. Many are hoping that once they pass the bar, firms will hire them, or maybe the state will hire them as a public defender or prosecutor. More likely than not though, many will hang out their own shingle and try to make it on their own. It's a scary prospect, especially if one has student loans.

"Yes, I'm going to work at LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington," I replied. Alcide's eyes practically lit up.

"Me too!" he exclaimed. "My family's surveying firm uses them for a lot of legal work, and you would have thought would have guaranteed me a job, but my dad still had to lobby hard. They only hired seven new lawyers for the whole firm this year, the smallest in coming class in at least 10 years… two in the Vegas office, three in the Jackson office and the two of us in Shreveport. Gosh, and could they have waited any longer to let us know! I didn't get my offer letter until early March! But I guess I can't complain, since $80,000 is more money than I've ever made." Well, I didn't know what to make of that. All I could do was politely smile and nod my head in perceived agreement. I didn't want Alcide to know that I got my offer letter in January, or that I was going to make $20,000 more than he would. It did make me wonder why, but who am I to question these things? I have no say or control over when the firm offered me the job or what the firm pays me, at least not coming in as a first year lawyer.

After that first day of bar review, Alcide and I became good friends and study buddies. We would study either at a coffee shop, his house, or my Gran's house. With Alcide's polite, easy nature, Gran took to him immediately. We studied the Louisiana Code, Civil Procedure, Torts, Business Entities, Negotiable Instruments, Constitutional Law, Criminal Law, Criminal Procedure and Federal Jurisdiction and Procedure, until I was reciting their rules of law in my sleep. I noticed that even Gran picked up a thing or two when I heard her telling Maxine Fortenberry that even though her Tyson boneless chicken breast had a bone in it, she couldn't sue them because she wasn't injured. I found myself wondering if Gran had learned some of the law through osmosis, maybe from my hugs.

The bar exam was awful. It was given over the course of three days in early July, on a Monday, Wednesday and Friday, in a hotel ballroom in Baton Rouge. I've never felt this kind of stress before. The results would be mailed out in October. If I failed, the next exam wouldn't be given until February. I didn't think the firm would fire me if I failed, but they certainly would be questioning their decision to hire me. So much was riding on these three days; basically, every day of my life up until now. I couldn't eat, my sleep was fretful. I think I lost close to ten pounds in that one week. Once the test was over, I walked out of the room in a complete daze and Alcide scooped me up into a big hug. When he released me, he took hold of my upper arms, looked me squarely in the eye and said "Let's go back to Shreveport and celebrate."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - The Bar at the Bar

Alcide told me that we had to celebrate finishing the bar exam by going to this one particular bar in Shreveport called Merlotte's, because it's a tradition. So, we each drove our own cars to this little bar that was no more than one block away from LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington, our new place of employment come Monday. We met up in the parking lot and walked towards the bar.

As we walked to the bar's simple entrance, a deep red door with a green oval sign that simply said "Merlotte's" in white script overhead, Alcide said, "You're going to love this place Sookie. It's where all the judges and prominent lawyers go to hang out, a place to see and be seen." Upon hearing this, I slowed my pace and looked down at my clothes. I was feeling a little self conscious as we had come straight from the bar exam, where my principal motivating factor in my choice of clothing was comfort. I was wearing jeans, a red tank top, tan sandals, and my hair was in a ponytail. Other than some lip gloss and mascara, I wasn't made up at all. Not exactly a look to "see and be seen" in. Alcide seemed to notice my hesitation and immediately tried to set me at ease. "Don't worry Sookie, you look great. I swear, you're one of those women who can wear anything and not have a lick of make-up on and you're still hot," Alcide beamed. I felt a flush of red go straight up my chest to my face and I looked down at the ground. I couldn't bear eye contact with Alcide after so forward of a statement. "Sookie, you know you're hot right? I mean, come on, have you seen yourself?" Alcide asked. And I didn't think it was possible, but I was sure I got even redder with his compliment.

"Alcide, that's awfully sweet, but really, I'm just a normal woman…." I finally managed to say, but Alcide cut me off.

"Sook, seriously. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable; I'm just telling it like it is. You're hot," he said with an appraising, lingering look.

Alcide seemed to be getting ready to expound on this when I cut him off, "Fine, whatever Alcide. Hey, let's get inside and have a drink already and then you can tell me about this bar and why it's such a tradition among lawyers."

Luckily, Alcide dropped the subject of my hotness and we walked into the bar. It wasn't that I didn't think I was attractive; I just wasn't used to a man being so forward about his assessment of me. Sure, I'd been hit on before, but Alcide's appraisal wasn't exactly a pick up line. It was him stating his honest opinion, and in his opinion, he appreciated how I looked. And I'm not blind; Alcide isn't too bad himself, far from it. He is tall, with thick dark hair and a great tan. He is solid too. All muscle. I may not be experienced when it comes to men, but I know a good looking man when I see one and Alcide certainly fit that description. However, there were a number of reasons why I just couldn't go there with Alcide, at least not right now. First, I wanted to get started with my career and not get side tracked in a relationship. That didn't mean I wasn't open to the idea of casual dating, and maybe (hopefully) sex, but I just couldn't commit myself to the time and effort a relationship would take. Second, casual sex with Alcide wasn't an option. We were going to work together and work place romances are always tricky. Finally, and the biggest reason for why Alcide and I couldn't work out, at least right now, is that we were really becoming good friends and I didn't want to jeopardize that. Sure, Gran would say that the best marriages start off as good friendships, and I think there is some truth to that, but right now, I needed Alcide the friend more than Alcide, the complicated work place romance.

As soon as we got in, Alcide led me to a high two top table near the bar. We placed our orders – a gin and tonic for me and a beer for Alcide – and I took the place in. The bar itself was mostly just that, a bar. You could tell they served some food, but it was a minimal bar menu, fried appetizers and side dishes, a burger and maybe a salad, but not more than that. The wood work was dark, the brass shiny, and the lighting dim. The actual bar was the focal point of the place, running the entire length of the back wall. There was a door on the left side of the bar where kitchen orders were run out. The front of the bar was lined with backless, well worn, leather bar stools. Then there was a break in the floor plan between the bar and additional seating, which was comprised of high top tables. Some were two top but most were four top tables. Then there was another separation, a low wall, where the normal, shorter-sized tables were set up for those who wanted to do more than just drink. It was a warm, cozy place and I felt instantly at home.

Alcide caught the bartender's eye and he immediately waved in recognition and walked over to our table. "Sam! It's good to see you!" Alcide said, rising out of his chair to shake Sam's hand as he patted Sam on the arm with his other hand, the way that men sometimes do. "I want you meet my good friend, Sookie Stackhouse. Sookie, this here is Sam Merlotte, the owner of this here fine establishment," Alcide said.

"Sookie, welcome to Merlotte's!" Sam said, shaking my hand. Sam's hand was very warm and rough. A working man's hand, maybe so from lifting boxes of liquor. He had great head of what appeared to be untamable sandy brown hair, with hints of red. He was maybe in his late 30s, and he had the start of fine laugh lines, which suited him.

"Thanks Sam. You sure have a nice place here," I said with one of my brightest smiles.

"Thanks Sookie. I'm guessing if Alcide brought you here you are either a date or a lawyer, right?" Sam asked.

I blushed at the suggestion that I was Alcide's date and said "Well, hopefully I'll be a lawyer. We just finished taking the bar exam."

"Well hell! Congratulations! Tell you what, first drink is on me. It's a tradition that all new lawyers come in here for their first drink after the bar exam. Supposed to bring you luck in your new career, at least, that's what the superstitious ones say. And let's face it, the law is a whole lot of luck sometimes, huh," Sam said.

"Sam here is a recovering lawyer," Alcide informed me.

"Well, I think I'm one of the smarter lawyers out there, since I'm not practicing law," Sam said and he laughed in a hearty, good natured way. "My family has owned this bar for four generations. My great grandfather was a lawyer and when he won his first big case, he bought this bar. He said the practice of law drove him to drinking so much, he needed his own bar! I guess I followed in the family footsteps. Anyway, lawyers from around Shreveport have been coming here for just as long. Started with my great grandfather's fellow law partners, then other lawyers started coming too. Nowadays, you'll see lots of locally well-known lawyers in here after work. A lot of judges come here too and many bring their staff. Why, you see that elderly lady over there, in the navy pants suit? That's the Honorable Antonia Pascali, or the A.P. for short."

"Oh my god, she's my idol!" I screamed like a tween at a Bieber concert. The A.P. was the first female judge in our county. She was one of only three women in her entering law school class, and she was the only one of those women to actually graduate from law school. Back in the day, a woman going to college was a rarity, unless she was there to get her MRS degree. But for a woman to go to law school, it was unheard of at the time. Yet the A.P. did it and boy did she ever. She finished first in her law school class, which I think was only possible because the law school had anonymous grading, assigning each student a random number for exams. I once heard the A.P. speak at LSU and the stories she told would make you cringe or cry, or maybe both. Let's just say her male classmates and professors made sure she knew she was not a welcome addition at the school. Her legal career wasn't any easier either. Yet despite it all, she persevered and succeeded when everyone else told her she would fail. I was sitting there with my mouth wide open in awe at this legend.

"You want to meet her?" Sam asked me.

"Oh my god, really? Do you know her?" I asked.

"Of course, come on," Sam said. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the A.P. When we reached her table, the A.P. looked up at us. "Ms. Pascali, I have someone here I want you to meet. This here is Sookie Stackhouse and she just finished taking the bar exam." Sam released my hand and the A.P. and I shook hands. For an older woman, she was remarkably strong, with a nice firm grip.

"Congratulations Ms. Stackhouse, welcome to the bar. Where will you be practicing?" she asked.

"I start at LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington on Monday. Can I just say it is an honor to meet you. You have been such an inspiration to women lawyers. It was hard enough going to law school today; I can't imagine what it must have been like for you back then. I just want to say thank you. Thank you for your example and for your bravery," I gushed. Seriously, I could start my own fan club for this woman.

"Thank you child. You are too kind. It wasn't easy, but I managed. And you say you're going to work at LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington, hmm. That is a very good firm, and while they have a female managing partner, I'm sure women still face their own issues there," she said in a rather cryptic fashion. I didn't get to dwell on her statement too much, because just then her food came out, so Sam and I said our goodbyes and headed back to my table.

"Was it everything you hoped it would be?" Alcide asked when I got back to the table, grinning like a fool.

"Yes, thank you. And I mean it Alcide, thank you for bringing me here and thank you Sam for introducing me to my idol."

"You're welcome Sookie," Alcide said as he gripped my hand and gave it a squeeze.

"My pleasure chere." Sam said, then he headed back behind the bar.

After two drinks, I had to call it quits. I was still staying in Bon Temps until I could find a place to live in Shreveport and I needed to drive home. Alcide offered to help me look at apartments, and while I certainly appreciated his offer, searching for a home seems awfully intimate to me and I politely declined. I like Alcide and he's my friend, but I didn't want to lead him on, and I was sure people would assume we were a couple looking for a place if we went apartment shopping together. I didn't need that, so we said our good-byes and parted ways.

Besides, I have enough to worry about since Monday is the first day of work.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – First Day Part 1

I spent the weekend apartment hunting in Shreveport. I even took Gran along for some of it. I could always count on her sound advice and guidance. However, the process was overwhelming and by Sunday afternoon I had had enough, so I packed it in. Plus, I was distracted by my impending first day of work. I wanted to lay out my clothes and get plenty of sleep given that my commute would add to the length of what would undoubtedly be an already long work day.

On Monday morning I woke up early and got ready for work. I put on a black skirt that modestly hit below my knees, and a red button down shirt, with a black jacket and pumps. I piled my hair up in a high bun and looked quite the part of the new lawyer. When I walked into the kitchen Gran had just put down the plate of bacon on the table. She'd gone all out on my first day of work – bacon, cheesy scrambled eggs, homemade biscuits, and sausage gravy.

"Gran, you shouldn't have!" I exclaimed.

"Hush now and dig in before it gets cold," she said setting down a cup of coffee in front of me. Oh, my Gran knows me well. "I can't have you going off to work on your first day without a proper breakfast. Why, what kind of grandma do you take me for!" she said with a feigned look of affront.

After my delicious breakfast, I stood to leave and bent to give Gran a kiss on her cheek. "I may be late getting home tonight Gran. I don't know exactly what to expect yet," I told her.

"Well, you do what you need to do, but if it does get too late, then you give me a call okay. I'll worry about you otherwise," she said.

"I will Gran," and with that, I got in my old car and headed to Shreveport.

The closer Shreveport got, the more my nerves increased. "Come on Sookie. Get it together. You can do this," I told myself, steeling my nerves. When I arrived, I sat in my car for a moment, closed my eyes, and took a nice, deep cleansing breath. Then I got out of my car and headed to the front of the building. The firm was located in a recently renovated downtown building that was ten stories tall. The firm itself occupied the top four floors. The rest of the building was rented out by other businesses: a few smaller law firms, an accounting firm and a court reporting service among them. I greeted the man at the building's security and reception desk and headed to the elevators. When I got in, I pressed the button for the 10th floor, where the firm's reception area was and waited in the otherwise empty elevator. I got out on the 10th floor and walked to the reception desk. I put on my nervous smile, which was always a little too tight, but it couldn't be helped. My nerves were back in full force. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse, and today is my first day," I said in a shaky voice.

"Welcome Ms. Stackhouse. I'm Debbie Pelt, the firm's receptionist. You can take a seat and someone will be with you shortly," she said in a dismissive tone.

"Thank you," I said, despite her rudeness. Just because she was being rude didn't mean I had to be. Gran had taught me better than that. So, I walked to the seating area, sat in a chair and waited.

The reception area was open and spacious and done in a neo-classical style. The place was brightly lit. Not only was the lighting bright, but the décor was as well. The floors were white marble and there were several white marble pillars throughout the room, purely for decoration and not for structural support. The reception desk, which sat in the middle of the room, was the only dark thing in the reception area. It was a dark cherry, but it was adorned with high tech computer screens and a state of the art phone system that somehow seemed to fit into the overall design scheme. There were seating areas, some of which were recessed, that surrounded the reception desk on all sides. They were set up so that there could be several different groupings of folks seated throughout the room. The room had nice, cushy, tan chairs and glass topped coffee and end tables near each of the seat groupings. The coffee table in front of me was spread out with today's papers, the major ones, such as the Wall Street Journal, New York Times and the Washington Post, and the more prominent local ones, like the Shreveport Times. I assumed the others held the same papers. The end tables had beautiful white porcelain lamps. The room was meant to make a statement to the firm's clients, as well as opposing counsel who may come here for meetings, depositions or mediation … this firm is established, well to do, and powerful.

A moment later the elevator dinged and Alcide stepped out. He strode towards Debbie and when she looked up to see who it was, she immediately perked up, straightening her posture and pushing her chest out. She flashed him her best smile as she greeted him with a sugary sweet, "Welcome to LeClerq, DeCastro and Edgington. What can I do for you?" all while giving him a good lingering, eye-fuck.

"I'm Alcide Herveaux and I'm here for my first day of work." You would have thought that Alcide was the second coming of Christ, Debbie looked so overcome with rapture.

"Of Herveaux Surveying?" she asked.

"It's my family's business, but I'm going to be a lawyer here," he responded.

"Why, how delightful!" Debbie practically squealed. "If there is anything, anything at all that I can do for you, you just let me know. Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?" she said, batting her lashes. It wasn't lost on me that she hadn't offered me any refreshments when I came in, but I just tucked that away in the back in of my mind for now. Alcide politely declined and Debbie told him he could take a seat and someone would be right with him.

Alcide walked over to me and our greeting was a little awkward. I stuck out my hand to shake his but instead, he picked me up in a great bear hug. "Sookie, I'm so glad to see you. Setting eyes on you sure puts me at ease," he said. If looks could kill, I'd be dead before my body hit the floor based on the looks Debbie Pelt was giving me. It was a lethal stink eye. Finally, Alcide released me and we spent the time talking about our weekend.

"Ah, here are our new associates," Bill Compton said as he came up to greet us. "We're going to get you all set up with HR, give you a tour and then you guys are going to jump right in to work." Bill led us to a conference room where a human resources person awaited us with a stack of papers. A good chunk of the morning was spent filling out forms, making elections – life insurance, health insurance, 401k – and doing all of the other things necessary to get us officially employed by the firm. Bill left us to it, but he came back at about 11:00 a.m. to give us a tour of the firm.

"The 10th floor is our reception area, but it also houses all of our conference and meeting rooms. There room sizes vary, depending on how big your meeting is. The lawyers' offices, their secretaries and paralegals are on the 9th and 8th floors. Our litigators and bankruptcy lawyers are on the 9th floor, and the corporate and real estate lawyers are on the 8th floor. The 7th floor contains our copy room, our runners, night secretary, and our law library. As you know, with the down economy there hasn't been much work in the corporate and real estate groups right now, so you both will be working in our litigation group. For the first year or two, you will be working with all of our litigation partners, but over time, you may settle into one practice area. In our Shreveport office, Eric Northman heads up our commercial litigation group and I head up our insurance defense and mass tort group. You'll become more familiar with the firm structure over time, and in any event, we're holding our firm wide retreat next fall in Las Vegas, with our Vegas office hosting us. You'll learn more about our structure and meet lawyers from our other offices then as well. It is a requirement that you attend, unless you are working on a case that is otherwise in trial at that time. Besides, it isn't really work at all when you're in Vegas," and I couldn't help but feel that Bill gave me a weird leer as he said those last words. I involuntarily shivered in revolt, but Bill's grin seemed to get bigger and I think he must have misinterpreted my body's reaction to his lewd behavior.

As we walked around I noticed that the 8th and 9th floors were basically big squares, with the lawyers' offices spanning the outside walls, where the windows were. The secretaries, paralegals, file cabinets, kitchen, copy machines, and bathrooms filled the center of the floor. The corner offices were occupied by the most senior partners. On the 9th floor, Bill, Mr. Northman, Sophie-Ann LeClerq and an attorney named Mr. Chow had corner offices. My office was next door to Mr. Northman's office and Alcide's was next to Bill's office, with Bill's and Mr. Northman's offices on opposite sides of the building. After our tour, Bill showed us to our offices. The firm had already provided us with basic office furniture: a desk, chair, computer, printer, and bookshelves. All I needed to do was bring in my law books and personalize the space. I was getting settled into my office when Bill stopped by a short time later.

"Sookie, to start, you and Alcide will have to share secretaries with existing lawyers. Alcide is sharing my secretary, Selah Pumphrey, and you are going to share Pam Ravenscroft, with Eric. Pam," Bill called over to her, "will you come here for a moment."

"I'm busy," I heard a woman's voice respond.

"Don't be obstinate. I want you to meet your new boss," Bill said barely restraining his disdain.

"Fine," Pam responded. I could hear the click of heels approaching my door. Pam stood in my doorway. She was beautiful, petite and blond, wearing a pink twin set and tan pencil skirt with impossibly high heels. I walked towards her with my hand extended, but Pam crossed her arms across her chest refusing to shake my hand. "Hi … boss," she deadpanned.

"Um, hi. I'm Sookie. It's nice to meet you Pam," I responded, awkwardly bringing my hand back down to my side.

"Look, Mr. Northman is a demanding partner. So, while I may work for you both, just know that your work will always come second to his. So, I suggest you get real comfortable doing things on your own and you should probably get to know the night secretaries too. It's nothing personal, but he is a partner and you're just a baby lawyer," she said in a matter of fact way. Bill did nothing but stand there, never disputing her words. I guess I see where I fit on the totem pole. "Well, Sookie, it's been real, but I have work to do," and with that, she left.

"Sookie, how about we get you started with the real work, okay," Bill said. "Let's just get started with some basics. I have a number of research projects that I'd you to research and prepare legal memoranda for my review and for the file. Most of the cases are car accidents and there are a few nursing home negligence cases too. I'll send you the file names and the issues I need researched. If you need to review the case files, just ask Selah where they are. And Sookie," Bill said coming towards me and encroaching on my personal space, and he then proceeded to place both his hands on my shoulders and slowly stroked them down my arms, "if you have any questions, or need anything at all, just ask me. My door is always open for you," he said and then he slowly released my arms and walked out. Ewww. I seriously felt like I needed a shower after that.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – First Day Part 2

After Bill left my office, I got started on organizing my desk and setting up my new work iPhone. About 30 minutes later I got an email from Bill with a list of research projects. I grabbed my yellow legal pad, opened up LEXIS, the online legal research database, and dug in. After working straight through lunch, I realized I needed some of the research materials kept in the firm's law library, so I gathered my things to head that way. But as luck would have it, I turned right out of my office and ran smack dab into a wall of tailored muscle, dropping all of my research and notes. Mr. Northman also dropped the file he held and I immediately fell to my knees to pick everything up. After mentally saying "shit, shit, shit" over and over in my head while gathering up the papers, I noticed Mr. Northman hadn't moved an inch. I pulled my papers together and began to slowly look up his legs, which I could tell were solid muscle even through his tailored pants, and higher … wait, was that bulge his … anyway, up his torso and eventually landing on his face, which of course, was graced with his trademark smirk.

"Ms. Stackhouse, if we are going to continue to meet like this, I may have to have you wear a collar with a bell to warn me that you're coming my way," he said.

Why did I keep bumping into this man! It reminded me of high school physics, when we learned that all objects that have mass have their own gravitational pull. We didn't always notice this principle because other object's mass sort of influenced the force and the earth's gravitational pull is so much stronger. But maybe that wasn't the case with Mr. Northman. Maybe his mass, which was substantial given his six-foot plus, broad frame, caused a stronger gravitational pull than any other object's, even the earth's, at least it seemed that was the case for me. I'd have to ponder the whys and hows of that some other time because I realized that while I'd been ruminating internally, I'd also been sitting on my knees before this man staring up into his face for some minutes without saying anything at all.

"Mr. Northman, please call me Sookie. I am so sorry. I don't know why we keep running into each other, literally," I said as I gathered my things and his and slowly stood. As I did, I handed him his file, but he didn't take it immediately. Instead, he extended his hand towards my hair, but left it hovering just away from my head, not touching me at all.

"May I?" he asked. I was confused because I had no idea what he was going to do, but I couldn't find it in myself to say no to this man, so I simply nodded my assent. He then reached his hand out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand lightly brushed my neck and lingered there for just a moment before he pulled it back and took his files from me, our eyes never breaking contact the entire time. "I understand that we will be sharing Pamela," he said. Pam, whose desk was right outside our offices, perked up at the mention of her name. "Pamela, I want you to ensure that Ms. Stackhouse … I mean Sookie … has everything that she needs. You are to do whatever work she asks of you, is that understood," he said. Although it was phrased as a question, he said it like it was a command. Pam stood up from her desk and the look on her face can only be described as one of shock. "Pamela, I asked you a question, do you understand?" he asked again, this time, he pulled his eyes from mine and looked directly at Pam.

His look was heated and she didn't fail to respond this time. "Yes Mr. Northman. Whatever you say," she fumbled, dumbstruck. I wasn't sure what the big deal was, other than that he must know how rude she is, because her reaction seemed disproportionate to his request. That was yet something else I would have to think about later. Then he nodded and walked off down the hall. Pam looked at me and, as soon as he was out of hearing range she said, "In all my years of working for that man, I have never seen him share anything, let alone me. What is it about you Sookie that has him in a sharing kind of mood?" she asked.

I was almost sure the question was rhetorical, but went ahead and said, "I don't know what you mean Pam. Bill said Alcide, the other new lawyer, and I had to share an assistant and that for me, you were it. I didn't pick you either you know," I said bluntly, but immediately regretted my words. I didn't want to start my first day with any nastiness between me and my secretary.

"Fire, I like that. I am pretty sure Mr. Northman does too. Sookie, if you keep speaking your mind like that, I'm sure we'll get along just fine. If Mr. Northman doesn't mind sharing me with you, then who am I to complain," she said. I was flooded with relief when I realized this small hurdle had been overcome.

"Pam, I'll be honest. I have been a lawyer for all of a minute. While I know the law in theory, I know you probably know way more than I do about how the law works in practice, and I am sure I can learn a lot from you. I want us to have a good working relationship and I want you to know that I am not one of those people who gets off on treating their secretaries like shit. I promise, you will have nothing but my respect, unless you do something to lose it, fair?" I said.

"Sure thing Sookie," Pam replied and she extended her hand to me. I reached out and shook it.

"I'm going to the law library. I'll be there if you need me or if anyone is looking for me," I said.

"Okay Sookie. Hey, I noticed you worked through lunch. Would you like me to order something from the deli downstairs for you?" Pam asked.

I was dumbfounded and there was a slight pause before I could respond. "Yeah, a salad with ranch dressing would be nice. Thanks Pam," I said. Wow, she went from bitch to courteous in no time. I only hope I can win everyone over as easily.

With that, I headed to the law library. When I got there, Alcide was working diligently at a table and I set my stuff next to his. "Hey Alcide, how's your first day going?" I asked.

"Man, busy. I'm working on a bunch of stuff for Mr. Chow. He has a trial coming up and I'm helping him put together his trial binder and doing some last minute research for pretrial motions. How about you?"

"I'm working on a bunch of research projects for Bill," I replied.

"Yeah, he seemed really interested in having you work on his legal briefs," Alcide snickered. Honestly, lawyer humor can be so lame. And lawyers wondered why people make so many lawyer jokes.

"Ha, ha, well, whatever. I'm just happy to be working, although it sounds like what you're doing is way more interesting than what I'm doing right now," I sighed.

"Don't worry Sook, I'm sure there will be plenty of stuff for us to do," Alcide consoled me. After that, we worked on in silence and it was coming up on 5:00 when I decided to head back to my desk. My salad was waiting for me and I even had a chocolate chip cookie. I had just finished eating when Mr. Northman stopped by my office.

"Sookie, I heard that you were commuting from Bon Temps and are trying to find a place to live in Shreveport. I actually own a building in town and there is a vacancy there if you're interested. I can take you there now to check it out if you'd like," he said. I couldn't believe Eric Northman was offering to show me an apartment.

"Sure, I can go whenever it's convenient with you. I was probably going to just take some of this work home anyway," I said.

"Great, let me pack up my stuff and I will come and get you."

As soon as Mr. Northman left my office, Pam came scuttling in. "Uh, did I just hear Mr. Northman say he's going to take you apartment hunting?" she said in a gossipy manner.

"Well, something like that Pam," I said.

"This is another first. He never does anything with anyone from here outside of work. Interesting…" she trailed off deep in thought.

"Pam, if we're going to do this, you and I, being, I don't know, friends maybe? You have to help me here. I have no idea what you're talking about," I confessed.

"Look Sookie, Mr. Northman will be back here any minute, so I don't have time to say much, but let's just say he is not one who plays well with others. His reputation is that he is a skilled, demanding lawyer, but he handles his cases himself. He doesn't take anyone else on. And he certainly doesn't show new lawyers available apartments in town after hours," she said.

"So, are you saying I should be worried?"

"No, Mr. Northman is above reproach when it comes to his reputation. He has never had a personal relationship with anyone at work, and he isn't the kind of guy that would do anything you didn't want him to do either. Honestly, if I swung that way, there are many things I would want him to do to me. But Bill is another story. I saw he has you working on some of his cases. You need to be careful with him. His wife, Lorena Ball is a partner in the corporate group downstairs and I know he's seeing his secretary Selah on the side. Also, a few years back he relentlessly pursued one of our new female associates and she ended up quitting. The firm hushed it up because he's such a rainmaker, but he isn't the kind to take no for an answer." Well, that was a lot of information to take in. "Look I better go, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure thing Pam." Boy, did she give me some things to think about, but I didn't have any time because no sooner had she left when Bill stopped by.

"Hi Sookie, I just wanted to see how things are going on your first day," he said.

"Everything is going fine. I should have memos for the auto accident research issues back to you by tomorrow morning. I'll need to work on the nursing home research a little bit more, but you should have it by end of business tomorrow," I said.

Bill then came around to my side of the desk positioning himself behind me and started to squeeze my shoulders. "So eager Sookie. I don't want you to become all work and no play. Here, let me help you relax," he said. My tension started to ratchet up. I was molested by an uncle when I was young, and Bill's behavior was on the verge of triggering a major panic attack. I could feel my muscles seize and my eyes begin to fill with tears. Luckily, just then Mr. Northman walked in.

"Bill," Eric greeted, taking in the scene before him.

"Eric," Bill responded. "Is there something you need?" he asked, clearly trying to get rid of him.

"Yes, actually, I need Sookie," Eric said. I could have kissed him for coming to my rescue.

"Really?" Bill asked. "This is unlike you Eric, to take an interest in an associate."

"Sorry not to live up to your expectations Bill. Sookie, let's go," he said, firmly planting himself in my doorway.

"Okay Mr. Northman, I just need my purse," I squeaked out.

"Sookie, I told you to call me Eric," he said and he crossed the room, grabbed my hand and led me out the door. I was so confused because he had never told me to call him Eric, and while I was thinking that very thing I was barely able to remember to turn around and grab my purse in my confusion. As I did so, I saw Bill, who was left standing alone in my office. The expression on his face could only be described as livid.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – Apartment Hunting

Eric led me through the parking lot to his reserved parking spot nearest the elevator bank. Of course, he drives a red Corvette – a car to match the man: sleek, powerful and if not handled correctly, dangerous. He opened the door for me and I slid into the low passenger seat. I almost felt as if I was lying on the ground. Eric got in, started the engine, and then we were off. The tension from our incident with Bill followed us into the car and the silence persisted for several minutes until I just couldn't take it anymore.

"You never told me I could call you Eric," I blurted. I had no idea why, after all that I had just been through, that was the first thing I uttered.

"Well, I am now," he said. He looked calm on the surface, but I could see the tension in his jaw, which was shut so tight that the muscles strained under the effort.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. I honestly had no idea what was going on in his head. I just wanted to make sure that we were okay.

"Of course not, I'm … just not." I could tell from his hesitation that he intended to say something else, but for whatever reason didn't do so. I decided that I didn't want to press things too much after the day that I've had. "I think you'll like the apartment. It's close to work and there are good restaurants and bars within walking distance. There are some nearby boutique shops too," he said, clearly changing the subject. I abided.

"It sounds nice. Mr. Nor… I mean, Eric. Thank you…. Just… thank you," I said, releasing a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I didn't have to say what for. He knew. Eric looked my way and some of the tension left his face and he smiled, a real, honest to goodness smile. It was breathtaking.

We drove on in companionable silence as we pulled up towards the building, which was sleek and modern. When we came up to the guard shack, Eric rolled his window down to swipe his entry card and waved at the guard. We drove though and Eric parked in a reserved spot closest to the door.

The building was fifteen stories tall. We got out on the 14th floor and walked to Apartment 1401, which was one of only two apartments on this floor. Eric pulled a set of keys from his pocket and fumbled with them at the door until he found the right one. He opened the door for me and we entered. The apartment was beautiful and modern and huge. At one look I could tell there was no way I could afford this place. Sure I was making good money, at least I would when I got paid in a couple of weeks, but I had student loans, my car was old and needed some work, and I had Gran. I knew she would fuss, but I wanted to help make things as easy for her as I could financially. This place was just too grand.

The entry way opened out into a large living space that had a wall of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Shreveport skyline. There was a balcony too. To my left was an open concept kitchen that was bigger than what I would need living on my own. It had stainless steel appliances, a huge 5 burner gas stove, a double oven, a large subzero refrigerator, and black granite countertops. There was a large island that allowed for bar seating, as well as space for a kitchen table. Further to the left was a guest bedroom with en suite. To the right of the living space was the master suite. It was amazing. It also had floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. The carpet was light gray and extremely plush. There were two walk in closets. I didn't even have enough clothes to fill one! And there was a fireplace in the wall that abutted the bathroom and could be seen in both rooms. The bathroom was almost as big as the bedroom. There was a modern glass shower with a rainwater showerhead and two side shower heads. I bet I could lay completely flat on the shower floor and not touch the walls. There was also a big over-sized jetted tub. I could only guess how many people would fit in there. There was a double sink and vanity area as well. I'm sure my eyes were as big as saucers taking it all in.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

"Eric, it's absolutely beautiful. I love everything about it, but I can't afford to live here," I said. I actually felt more than a little disappointed at seeing such a beautiful home and knowing that it was outside of what was possible, outside of my reality.

"You don't even know what the rent is," Eric replied.

"Whatever it is, I can't afford it. I mean, look at this place," I spun around taking in the beautiful surroundings again.

"It's $1000 a month, all included. Garbage, security, concierge services, you only have to pay rent, water and electricity. This place is modern and LEED certified, so we are very energy efficient. The utilities are quite low, I can assure you. And if you don't want to buy furniture, the building has some furnished apartments. We can simply bring that furniture up here if you'd like," he said. I spun on my heel to look him in the eye. Surely he couldn't be serious.

"You're joking right?" I asked.

"No, it's true. If you agree, I can get you the paperwork and we can get it set up," he said awaiting my response.

"I don't know Eric. This is a little much," I started, but Eric interrupted me.

"It isn't much at all. It's in a desirable location, it's close to your work, it has 24-hour security … your parents … or boyfriend … would be pleased with that…" he trailed off.

"My parents are dead," I said, and I regretted my bluntness.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea," Eric said with a pained expression. It was a look I was used to seeing often. I was an orphan, and had been since I was seven. At first, seeing other people's pity used to remind me of my loss and fill me with sorrow, but in the many years since losing my parents, I had become numb to it.

"It's fine," I dismissed with a wave of my hand. "My Gran raised me and you are right, she would be over the moon with the security," I said.

"And your boyfriend?" Eric asked, clearly fishing.

"I don't have one," I replied. Eric's face remained impassive but his eyes appeared to twinkle.

"What a shame," he said, not meaning one damn word of it.

What was I doing? With him? Here? Did I want this? I did what I set out to do. I am an attorney, assuming I pass the bar. Sure, I'm still trying to make my way in my career, and workplace romances are not a good idea, especially with a boss… If only I had some experience with men and dating, then maybe I would know what to do. Would I be open to finding out? What about my reputation at work? I couldn't risk it. But Eric was so damn compelling. Maybe it was his gravity.

"I'll take it," I said.

"Good," he said with a huge smile. Taking my hand, he led me from the apartment, "I'll bring you the paperwork tomorrow," and he took me back to the office.

For once I was glad I had a relatively long drive home. I finally had time to turn over the day's events. All in all, I had to say it was a good first day – I started work, won over my secretary, found an apartment. Sure, the sexual harassment sucked, and I would need to figure out what I'm going to do about that, but that was a big ole can of worms that I wasn't prepared to deal with just yet. I would just have to leave for another day.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Staffing Cases

Work got better, easier, as the weeks went on. I became more comfortable in the office and more sure of my abilities. Sure, I still had to contend with Bill and how, when he'd talk to me, he'd stare at my chest the whole time. And he would rub my shoulders, or walk too close behind me and graze my butt on occasion, but I had started to develop a few techniques to deal with his unwanted advances. I started taking a legal pad or file folders with me wherever I went and if I had to talk to him, I'd hold them in front of my chest, forcing him to look me in the face. I also moved my desk so that there wasn't any room for him to scoot behind me while I was sitting there; effectively keeping him from positioning himself so that he could rub my shoulders. I also kept my back to the wall as much as possible. All in all, it was a delicate dance that I thought I was doing quite well. That was until last Friday.

Friday morning Bill summoned me to his office. When I got there I noticed that he had piles and piles of paper stacked all over his floor. "Sookie, I was trying to organize all of these documents for our document production in the Houghton case and I could use your help. I need each of these documents paired with the document request that it relates to, and I need you to keep track of anything that may be privileged for our privilege log."

"Sure Bill, but can we move this to a table or something?" I was wearing a black v-neck wrap around dress and I didn't want to be crawling around on my hands and knees on the floor in it.

"I'm afraid not. They're already loosely organized and I don't want to do anything to mess that up," he replied.

"Well, okay," I said. Bill handed me the document request and went back behind his desk, apparently working at his computer. I got down on the floor and started reviewing and organizing documents. It was not comfortable, as I was crawling around on my knees and had to hunch over.

At one point, Eric stopped by Bill's office to ask Bill a question about one of his client's that Eric was doing some work for. When Eric entered Bill's office, he stiffened as he took in the scene before him, but otherwise, he didn't say anything and left as soon as Bill answered his question.

After Eric left, Bill resumed working at his computer and I resumed my document review. Eventually, I got lost in my work and I am not sure how much time had passed before I noticed that I could no longer hear the clicking of Bill's keyboard. When I looked up, Bill was staring at me, his eyes glazed with lust, and he was licking his lips. I immediately dropped my eyes down and noticed that he had a great view down my dress and at my ample cleavage. I was angry and mortified and I could feel tears well up in my eyes.

"Here Sookie, why don't I help you for a while," Bill said coming from behind his desk and kneeling on the floor next to me. I was frozen but he didn't seem to notice. He looked over my shoulder, ostensibly at the document request, although I was certain he was just getting another view of my boobs. Then he moved to shuffle some of the papers around on the floor, taking the opportunity to brush up against me.

When his hand brushed my breasts, I shot my eyes up at him and said with as much venom as I could muster, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing." My voice was quiet, but he was close enough that I knew he could hear me.

"Why Sookie, whatever do you mean?" Bill asked, his eyes looking me right in the eye, and then moving down to my chest.

Just then there was a knock at the door, breaking the tension. Bill looked up annoyed at first, then, after he registered his guest, he put on a wide smile. "Hi honey!"

"Bill, Sophie-Ann was wondering if you could come to her office," she said, standing in the doorway and looking back and forth between me and Bill.

"Sure honey. Have you had a chance to meet Sookie Stackhouse? Sookie, this is Lorena Ball, a partner in our corporate law group, and my wife. Sookie is one of our new associates and she's assisting me with a few cases," he said. Lorena was staring at me with her dark hate-filled eyes and no one said a thing.

After a long, awkward pause, Lorena repeated, "Bill, Sophie-Ann needs you, now."

"Okay, I'm coming. Sookie, let's pick this up again after lunch okay?" he said. I just nodded my head, and Bill rose and left his office; however, Lorena remained. As soon as Bill was out of ear shot, Lorena walked into his office and closed his door.

"Look bitch, he's mine okay. You keep your hands to yourself and stay away from my man," she hissed.

I immediately stood up, albeit shakily since my legs were sore from kneeling for so long, and I tried to defend myself. "I … I'm not interested in him! I don't want anything to do with him! He's the one who keeps coming onto me!" I protested.

Lorena walked over and grabbed me by my arms and pulled me so close I could feel her breath on my face, "Listen here you little slut, you better not say that shit to anyone. You are nobody and no one will believe you. Bill is a long time partner and rainmaker at this firm. You are a baby lawyer. Hell, your inexperience and the training we have to do to make you competent costs the firm more money than you'll ever make for at least the first three years you're employed, assuming you make it that long. Girls like you come and go all the time. A cost of doing business. If you don't watch yourself, you may find that you just aren't cut out for big firm life, and you may find yourself out of a job," and with that, she released me and strode towards the door. "I'll be watching you, bitch," she said, with her back turned, as she opened the door and walked out. I was left, standing in a sea of paper, gaping at the door in utter disbelief.

As soon as I could think coherently, I hurried out of Bill's office and ran to mine, shutting the door a bit too loudly. I sank into my chair, put my face in my hands and cried. I tried to keep my sobs quiet, because I wasn't sure how soundproof the offices were, but I just couldn't control myself completely and some loud sobs escaped me despite my best efforts. I simply couldn't believe this was happening to me and I was overcome with emotion. After about five minutes, there was a tentative knock on my door.

"Sookie?" It was Pam.

"What Pam?" I asked through the door, my voice broken with my crying. I was silently willing her not to come in. Of course, she did. She slid into the office, only opening the door enough to get herself through it, and then she closed it behind her.

"I saw you come in your office and slam the door and I just wanted to check on you. What happened?" Pam asked, and I could see genuine concern on her face.

I didn't know what to do. I shouldn't complain about one of my bosses to my secretary. It wasn't appropriate. But I did feel that Pam and I were almost friends, maybe good friends even. And god I wanted to tell someone, ask for some advice. It was times like this that I wished Amelia stayed in Louisiana. She would know what to do. She'd probably tell me to report Bill. It was something I had considered and I knew that technically it was what I should do, but what Lorena said was right. It was my word against his, and it wasn't like he kissed me or did anything more sexual. He would easily be able to dismiss his touching as inadvertent and his massages as innocent attempts to make me feel better. I could see it all play out in my mind. He would say that I am the one who is over-reacting. He would say I never told him to stop, never protested his behavior. Hell, he may even say I initiated it. Instead of him, I would be the one on the hot seat and maybe even out of a job. I couldn't lose my job. I would never be able to find another job if I left here. What kind of job candidate would I be? An unlicensed lawyer, awaiting bar results, with only a few weeks of employment under my belt. Prospective employers would certainly be suspicious about why I only lasted a few weeks. And the Shreveport legal community is small. Word would spread fast and Bill is the one with the connections. He can more quickly and effectively get his story out in the public. I would be blacklisted. God, I'm not even in a messy office romance and this is a hundred times worse.

Pam continued to stand there patiently, and then she simply said, "Bill. I knew that prick would try something with you. Sookie, don't you worry. Mr. Northman will take care of it," Pam said.

"No!" I shouted. Then I repeated more calmly, "No Pam, everything is fine. Eric doesn't need to do anything. I'm a big girl and I will figure this out." Just then my phone rang and it was Sophie Ann's secretary, Andre.

"Pam, I have to take this," I said with my heart in my throat. However, Pam stayed firmly planted and crossed her arms across her chest. Clearly she was going nowhere. I didn't have time to argue with her since my phone was ringing, but I sat there for a brief moment with my hand on the receiver. Bill had just gone up to see Sophie Ann and now her secretary was calling me. This couldn't be good. I took a deep breath to compose myself and answered the phone, "Sookie Stackhouse."

"Ms. Stackhouse. Ms. LeClerq would like to see you," he said dryly.

"I'll be right there." I slowly placed the receiver down and rose. I grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk and dabbed my eyes and blew my nose. Then I walked over to Pam. When I got in front of her she surprised us both I think by grabbing me a brief, but intense hug. "Everything is going to be fine," she whispered in my ear. When she released me she went back to her desk. I walked around the hall to Sophie Ann's office and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," she said and I entered. Sophie Ann was sitting at her desk. Bill and Eric were sitting in front of her and there was an empty seat between them. I glanced briefly at both of them and registered their expressions. Bill looked pissed and Eric looked smug. "Sookie," Sophie Ann greeted me warmly, "please take a seat." I sat down between Bill and Eric and Sophie Ann jumped right in.

"Sookie, I know you've been working on cases with Bill since you've been here, but Eric has a big trial coming up in the spring and he could use an associate to work with him on it. So, at Eric's request, we're going to assign you to his case. It is quite large, with an estimated exposure in the tens of millions. There are many documents and computer files to go through, and interviews and depositions still need to be conducted, so there is a lot of work to do, more than Eric can do on his own," she said.

"Okay, if that's what you all have decided, that is fine with me."

"Good. Gentlemen, you are excused." Everyone stood, so I did too, but Sophie Ann stopped me from leaving, saying, "Sookie, I need you to talk to you," and the men left the office. Once we were alone, Sophie Ann resumed her seat. "Well, I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to speak with you sooner. Sookie, I just want to say, being a woman in the legal profession is tough. It was, and to a certain extent still is, a boys' club. We women have to work twice as hard, put up with some stupid shit, and have to constantly justify our choices for doing what we do. I did it, women before me did it, and I'm sure you going to do it too. It's just how it is, but I have every confidence that you are strong enough and resilient enough that you can do it and you'll be better for it. Besides you have a powerful ally backing you."

I was still trying to absorb her words and was taken by surprise by her mention of an ally. "I'm sorry, what? What ally?" I asked.

"Eric Northman. You greatly impressed him with your on-campus interview, you know. He isn't used to law students being so strongly opinionated, or persuasive. It seems you were both. He insisted we hire you the next day. And I've seen the work you're doing for Bill. You're going to be a fine lawyer Sookie."

"Ms. Leclerq" I began.

"Please, call me Sophie Ann."

"Sophie Ann, is there a reason I'm being reassigned to Eric's case, maybe one you didn't mention earlier?"

"Sookie, Eric works alone. He has never asked for anyone to assist him on a case before. He is an excellent lawyer and when he asked for your help, I was inclined to allow it. I had to inform Bill of course, and he was quite adamant that you remain on his cases. But, as I said, Eric has never made a request like this, and I see no reason to deny him. Do you have a problem working with Eric?" she asked.

"No, none at all. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't anything I had done, work wise, to cause the change is all."

"No Sookie, your reputation is safe. Let's try to keep it that way," she said with a wink.

As I left Sophie Ann's office I kept turning her words over and over in my head, trying to read between the lines. I was certain that she was aware of Bill's behavior, based on our little discussion as well as Pam's earlier comments to me about Bill's history. It seemed she was telling me in a roundabout way that I'd have to put up with a certain amount of bad behavior. But then she said Eric was an ally. Did that mean she didn't think it would be so bad for me because of of Eric? It was a lot to take in, and it wasn't billable, so I returned to my work. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to wrap up the things I was doing for Bill. I emailed him my work and had Pam take his files back to him. I just couldn't bear being near him after what he did. Once I was done, it was late in the day, but since Eric was still here, I decided to go to his office and see what he needed me to do.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: For the first time, I've decided we should get Eric's perspective on things. Let me know what you think, or whether I should just stick to Sookie.**

Chapter 9 – Denial

**Eric's POV**

As soon as Sophie Ann's door closed behind us, I looked at Bill and with my eyes boring into him I spat out, "Stay the fuck away from her Compton."

"Fuck you Eric. She is _mine_. You think you can just come in and steal her away from me? Think again. I'll have her, in more ways than one," he seethed.

"You are one sick son-of-a-bitch. She isn't interested in you. Neither were the others. None of them, not Tara, or Jessica, and sure as hell not Sookie Stackhouse. You are delusional if you think otherwise. So, for one last time, Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her," I said, biting out each word. We stood toe to toe, staring at each other, but he broke eye contact first and slunk away.

I stormed towards my office, barking out to Pam, "Hold all of my calls for the rest of the afternoon." Two seconds later, Pam came into my office, closing the door behind her.

"Right, so what the fuck is going on Eric," Pam said, with her arms crossed over her chest. To any outsider, Pam's words and actions may seem out of character, insubordinate even. The truth is that Pam may be all formality and propriety when we're with others, but when it's just the two of us, all of the charades fade away. Pam is my oldest friend. She's worked with me for years and I trust her implicitly. In fact, she is the only person I do trust. And most importantly, she respects me and my role here in the office. She knows that in a law firm, hierarchy is everything, and so I can always count on her to show me respect and deference when we're in public. But in private? Well, that is another matter altogether. She challenges me, within reason, which is one of the reasons we get along so well. "Wait, let me guess, it's fucking Bill Compton isn't it? I don't know what he did to Sookie, but you should have seen her in her office bawling her eyes out just moments ago," she said shaking her head. Pam continued, "Goddamn you Eric! I told you to ask for Sookie to work on your cases when she started here. You would have saved her a hell of a lot of trouble," she chastised.

"Can it Pam. I don't need your 'I told you so's.' I've gotten everything worked out. I talked to Sophie Ann and Sookie isn't going to work with Bill anymore. She's going to work with me on the Avery case, so get the filing up to date so Sookie can familiarize herself with the case," I ordered.

"Well, it's about fucking time," Pam responded, seemingly mollified. "And by the way, I hope you get your head out of your ass and ask her out already. It's obvious you carry a torch for her. The only one who seems to be oblivious to this is you. So get moving, before someone else moves in."

"It is none of your business who I date Pam, but even if I _could_ have dated her when she was working for Compton, I sure as hell can't ask her out now. I'm her boss, and I will not be another Bill Compton," I hissed. Truth be told, I was happy to step in to protect Sookie from that sleaze ball Compton, but I didn't want it to be at this cost. I know that Sookie is focused on making her reputation in her career. I can see her ambition, and she is talented. Her school records and achievements, her student note, the confidence with which she defended her thesis to me at her interview, even the work she's been doing at the firm that I had been made aware of, all of it told me she is going to be an excellent lawyer. But having her working for me complicates things. If we dated, then when she does succeed, as I know she will, there will always be rumors and innuendo hovering around her, a cloud of doubt about whether she was able to do it on her own, or whether it was my influence that made it possible. It would taint the career that she has worked so hard for and I don't want to do that to her. It's not fair; she deserves the opportunity to shine. By having Sookie work for me and giving her this chance at a career untainted with scandal and doubt, I am effectively foreclosing the opportunity for us to be anything more than work colleagues, at least until she has established herself in her career. While I am a patient man when it comes to getting what I want, truth be told, I don't want to be patient when it comes to Sookie Stackhouse. So here I am. Eric fucking Northman, pining for a woman I can't have. When did I turn into such a goddamned pussy.

Pam brought me out of my reverie, "Eric, you are nothing like Bill Compton. Look, Sookie may be an associate working for you, but she's an adult and can make her own decisions. However, she can't make those decisions if you don't give her the option and put yourself out there. Don't be a chicken shit Eric."

"You're dismissed Pam," I said, effectively cutting this conversation off. Pam saw my determination and knew she had pushed me far enough.

"Fine, I'm going. Don't get your panties in a wad," she said as she left.

As I sat with my thoughts, I kept thinking about fucking Bill Compton. I knew as soon as Sookie walked into her interview at LSU he would try to get his claws, among other things, into her. After she got to the firm, I had to watch as Bill Compton mauled her time and again. However, today was the last straw. Seeing him eye fuck her while he had her crawling around on all fours on his floor…. Fucking pathetic pervert. I had had enough, and I'm most certain Sookie felt the same, so I went straight to Sophie Ann and demanded that she assign Sookie to my cases and away from Bill. Sophie Ann had to agree because she knows what Bill is like, and when I appealed to her bottom line, I knew I'd get my way.

I am so sick and tired of this firm covering up for that asshole. I've told Sophie Ann repeatedly that he is our biggest liability, yet the fact that he brings in big clients keeps him protected. You would have thought Sophie Ann, Russell Edgington and Felipe DeCastro would have learned their lesson after Tara Thornton. That almost blew up in the firm's face. Bill's harassment of her escalated to the point where it was impossible to ignore and then Lorena began her relentless assault on that poor girl. Thankfully, in lieu of filing suit, Tara accepted a confidential settlement and a position in our Las Vegas office, all expenses paid of course. If Tara hadn't agreed, the firm would have been ruined and most certainly would have had to dissolve. Sometimes I wonder if that isn't exactly what should have happened.

I may be content with my situation here, but my complacency doesn't mean I lack morals. Sure, my morals are mostly based on my self-interest and so far it has worked for me. I get to dictate my practice, my cases and how I manage them. For the most part, people here leave me alone, exactly as I like it. But, all the same, I don't want any woman to have to be subjected to fucking Bill Compton. And, for reasons beyond my comprehension, with Sookie, my protective instincts just come out even more. I can't explain it. Sure, she's beautiful, but it's more than that. She's smart and challenging … and has been from the minute we bumped into each other at LSU. When she challenged me during her interview, she only piqued my interest. She showed me that in addition to being attractive, she's competent and confident. Then at that club in New Orleans when she all but brushed me off with a smile and a flip of her hair…it was a first. And then watching her dance with her girlfriend was pure torture. I find that things, and women in particular, come easily to me. For fucks sake, I've dated Ms. Louisiana … two of them… and a few Victoria's Secret Angels too, but none of them challenged me or intrigued me, not like Sookie Stackhouse. But I would have to just put my interest in her aside. I won't allow a romantic entanglement with her to interfere with her career by providing the fodder necessary to ruin her reputation or cast doubt on her ability. She doesn't deserve that. So I will have to content myself with being her boss and nothing more, for now.

At least I've managed to get her away from Compton here at work. I'll be happier when she moves into her apartment this weekend. I know she'd freak if she found out that the rent is five times what I'm charging her, but given Bill's interest in her, the security that the building affords is essential. As I continued my ruminations, there was a meek rapping on my door. It was Sookie.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: My husband is from England (a Geordie for all of those in the UK who know what that means). He's been living in the US since he came over for college in 1993, when we met, and stayed once he married this Kentucky chick. Being away from his family in the UK has sometimes been hard, but never more so than these past several months, when his mom was diagnosed with intestinal cancer. We sent him over for a visit, but when he arrived, the doctor's gave her just two months to live, so I brought the boys over too so we could have one last visit with Grandma. It was hard, but not as hard as having my husband return home, only to have his mother decline precipitously. She passed Sunday night. My husband flew home, again, on Monday morning. I loved my mother-in-law dearly, and we shared many common interests, including our love of reading, sometimes great literature and sometimes trashy novels. I imagine we were as close as a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law could be. The distance never diminished the role she played in our and our children's lives. When they get really upset, they cry for Grandma, and now we cry for her. This story is dedicated to her.**

Chapter 10 – New Beginnings

I tentatively knocked on the door to Eric's office. Everything was so confusing. Eric was always polite with me. Really, more than polite … but his reputation was so different than what I've seen of him. I didn't know what to think, and on the heels of Bill's attentions, I didn't know what I wanted. When did everything become so confusing? I resolved that whatever may be going on between me and Eric would just have to be put on the backburner for now. I just wanted to work… get through one day of work where the only thing I had to worry about was legal research or the rule of law.

"Come in," Eric called out.

I entered his office. Eric was sitting behind his desk and looking … exhausted? Beautiful to be sure, but definitely exhausted, as well. We locked eyes, seemingly neither of us knowing where to start. Finally, he took the lead.

"Have a seat Sookie," he said, indicating the chair in front of his desk. I walked around and sat in the chair, crossed my legs and crossed my hands over my knee.

"Sookie, I'm sorry… for a lot of things," he said, and I wondered what on earth he had to apologize for. He must have noticed my confused look, so he continued, "Bill's behavior was out of line. You don't deserve that. What I am giving you here is a chance to practice law, no more, no less. This means that here, we are partner and associate and I will treat you accordingly. Is that acceptable?" he asked.

I felt a mash of emotions at his words: relief, elation, and disappointment foremost among them. I knew in my brain that what he was offering was a good deal. I would get my chance to practice law, prove myself, establish my career, but if I was being completely honest with myself, I was also more than a little disappointed.

"Yes, Eric, that is all I have ever wanted." Whether I said that because that had been all I had wanted, or whether I was trying to convince myself that that was all I still wanted, I just didn't know. Eric nodded his head, accepting my response.

"I'm going to have you work on the Avery case. It is a complex business litigation matter involving our client's Swedish subsidiary, Mountaintop Manufacturing. Mountaintop manufactures sporting goods, primarily for winter sports. They sell through authorized distributors who in turn sell to retailers. Several distributors and retailers have alleged that our client has engaged in horizontal price fixing with our competitors. The allegations claim that this unfair business practice has been going on for at least 4 years and has impeded competition. Since the suit was filed, we've engaged in some preliminary motions, but a lot of work needs to be done in order to get this case in shape for our Spring trial date. I'm having Pam update all of the filing and she will bring you the case file on Monday." Eric paused, and then said "We can get started on the case next week. I think you've had enough to deal with today, and you're moving into your apartment tomorrow, right?" Eric asked.

"Okay, and yes. I'm moving in tomorrow morning. I want to thank you again for helping me find an apartment. It really is spectacular," I said, and I was truly grateful. Finding a home was one less burden for me.

"Great. Well, once you get the file and make yourself familiar with it, why don't you stop by and we can chat about the case, strategy and next steps. Okay?"

"Sure Eric. See you Monday," I said rising from my chair.

"See you later Sookie."

I left work that night, heading to Gran's house, my childhood home, for the last time. Tomorrow I'd be a resident of Shreveport.

…

Gran, Jason and I got to my apartment by 10am. Jason got to Gran's early and we loaded up his truck with all of my worldly possessions, which sadly could fit in the back of a flat bed. I had a few things in my car too, but not too many because my car was small and I was driving Gran. When we got into the building, we each had a few things in our hands, with Jason carrying a large box. As soon as we walked into the apartment, Jason set down the box and let out a low whistle, "Hot damn Sookie. Look at this place. They really are paying you a ton of money at that law firm for you to be able to afford a place like this."

"Jason Stackhouse. You watch your language and mind your manners. It isn't polite to talk about money in such a vulgar manner. You know, if you only applied yourself a little, you could have finished college too and who knows what kind of opportunities could have opened up for you," Gran scolded.

"Yes mam," Jason said, sulking. "Well, should I bring up the rest of your stuff Sook, or are you going to give me and Gran the grand tour first?"

I showed Gran and Jason around the apartment and there were lots of oohs and aahs. If I could have read minds, it wouldn't be difficult to tell Jason was slightly jealous. I could tell he thought this apartment, which would clearly make an ideal bachelor pad, was wasted on me, his bookworm, no-boyfriend sister.

After the tour, Jason went to retrieve more boxes, while Gran led me into the kitchen with a package in her hands. It was wrapped in a brown paper and tied with a twine bow. "Sookie, I want you to have this as your housewarming gift," Gran said.

I took the package from Gran's hands and slowly began to open it, "Gran you know you didn't need to get me anything," I began to say before Gran hushed me. I knew money was tight and so I hoped Gran hadn't gone out too much. Once I got the gift from its wrappings, I stood stunned. Gran had given me her cast iron skillet, the one that had been in the Hale family for generations. I recognized this skillet easily. It had been part of most of my breakfasts while I had lived under Gran's roof. I could feel my eyes well with tears. "Oh Gran," I began before I was overcome with my emotion and could not keep my tears from spilling out, leaving wet tracks on my cheeks. It may not seem like much to some, but this gift was more special that if she had gone out and bought me a full set of china or crystal.

"Oh child, stop those tears, it's just a skillet," she said, trying to diminish the gift. She failed. After a moment, we embraced and then Jason walked in. He took one look at us … two women crying in the kitchen over a skillet … and he muttered something that sounded distinctly like "women" under his breath.

We proceeded to unload and unpack my belongings, trying to find a home for all of my possessions. The apartment was so much bigger than the living space I had at Gran's house, or even in New Orleans, that my cupboards and drawers still looked bare when we were done. I had just set out to make some sweet tea when my doorbell rang.

"Coming," I yelled out as I made my way to the door. When I opened it, I couldn't have been more surprised, there stood Eric Northman. I stood fixed, trying to understand why he was here.

"May I come in?" he asked and I immediately remembered my manners.

"Why of course, come in, please."

Once he entered the room, he noticed my company. I wasn't going to forget my manners twice, not with Gran here.

"Eric Northman, this is my Gran and my brother Jason. This is Eric Northman, one of the partners at my firm, and my boss," I said. I thought I saw Eric tense at my calling him my boss, but I wasn't sure. Then I remembered, "Eric also owns this building."

"So, you're the gentleman we have to thank for helping our Sookie find this wonderful apartment," Gran said, walking towards Eric and shaking his hand. "Thank you so much for finding such a safe place for her. I won't lie. I was truly worried about her moving from little ole Bon Temps to Shreveport."

"Gran! I lived in New Orleans for three years you know. New Orleans is much bigger than Shreveport," I said. I couldn't believe she was making it sound like I was some poor naïve girl moving to the big bad city.

"I know that, Sookie," Gran shot me a look that told me to mind myself in front of company. I'd seen that look before, so I closed my mouth and turned my gaze to the floor, properly cowed. "It's just that there you lived with Amelia and I knew you two girls would look out for each other. Why, here you're all alone," she said.

"Well, not all alone," Eric said, and before I had any time to ask him his meaning, he said, "I live upstairs on the 15th floor. Don't you worry, I'll look after your Sookie," he said with a smirk.

Oh hell.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – Is This The Best You Can Do?

On Monday morning, Pam brought me the file. Actually, make that files. The Avery case file was easily a good 10 red welds, with numerous subfiles, and growing. If I kept this file in my office, I wouldn't have to worry about filling up my bookshelf that's for sure. The case file was a little overwhelming at first, but once I got myself oriented, I knew where to begin. I started with the pleadings – complaint, answers, cross claims – and preliminary motions – motions to dismiss, motions to admit counsel to make appearances, and whatnot – and by early afternoon I had a pretty good handle on the case. So, I went to Eric's office and knocked on his open door. He was sitting at his desk working on his computer.

"Come in Sookie," he greeted. I took my seat in front of his desk and he continued, "It was nice meeting your family this weekend," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, Gran sure was pleased to meet you, and Jason was too," I cringed slightly as I recalled how Jason had, not so subtly, asked Eric how many "chicks" a pad like his would pull. Gran had invited Eric to stay with us for lunch, but he politely declined. I was both a little disappointed and a little relieved, but mostly relieved. Sometimes I hardly knew how to act around Eric at the office, let alone in front of my family. Plus, family always has a way of making you humble. And let's face it, who knew what Jason would say to Eric if they spent anymore time in the same room together. "Anyway, I've reviewed the Avery case file and I think I am ready to talk to you about it," I said, shifting topic.

"So, what do you think of the case?" he asked.

Okay, was he really asking me my professional opinion? How exciting! "Well, the case against our client seems circumstantial, at best, at this point, but it's too early to say for sure how this case will play out. We still need to interview the rest of our witnesses, including the sales folks in Sweden, and depose the plaintiffs, not to mention sift through what will undoubtedly be reams, and terabytes, of documents and data," I finished, satisfied with my preliminary assessment.

"Very good Sookie. You are correct; we need to do a lot more work before we can advise the client whether to settle, whether to file a dispositive motion, or whether we should move forward to trial. To get started, I need to know whether I can contact the plaintiffs' former employees, especially their former high ranking employees. I want to interview them and I don't want to have to tell the plaintiffs' lawyers that I'm doing so, or otherwise have them participate, at least not until I know what these potential witnesses are going to say. To do that, I need to know whether they considered to be represented by the plaintiffs' attorneys, since I can't contact a party represented by counsel. I want you to research this issue for me and then I would like for you to prepare a memo of your research, sound good?" he asked.

"Sure thing Eric," I said as I all but skipped out of Eric's office. My first assignment from Eric Northman!

It took me until the end of the next day, Tuesday, to complete the research and prepare the memo, but when I went to take it to Eric in his office; he wasn't there, so I just left it in his in-box. The next morning, Eric came to my office, with my memo in his hands. I smiled in anticipation of his assessment of my work.

"Sookie, is this the best you can do?" he asked.

I was mortified and I was certain my face dropped. "Well, maybe I can do better. I could maybe move some things around, follow up with additional research," I said, a lump lodged in my throat.

"Okay, here you go Sookie," Eric said as he handed back my memo and walked out of my office.

I took the memo back sheepishly. God I hoped Eric wasn't mad or disappointed in me, or thought I was incompetent. But what other conclusion could I reach? He just returned my work for what must have been deficiencies. I doubled down and worked on my memo all that day. By the end of day Wednesday, I was really happy with my memo and took into Eric's office, which was again empty. So, I placed it in his in-box.

Again, the next morning, Eric came back to my office with my memo in hand. "Knock knock," Eric said with a small smile.

"Hi Eric," I responded, holding my breath, awaiting judgment.

"Sookie, is the best you can do?" he asked again.

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach and I felt nauseated. "Eric, please let me have it back. I know I can do better," I pled.

"Okay, here you go Sookie," Eric said as he handed me back my memo.

I felt completely demoralized. I could only guess what Eric thought of me and my abilities, but I'm sure he regretted taking me on right now. I spent the entire rest of the day double checking my research, making sure to run down any and all loose ends. I rearranged my theories and proofread it for accuracy and conciseness until I could recite it from memory. With a deep breath, I took my memo back to Eric's office and again placed it in his in-box. I couldn't sleep the entire night I was so distressed. Knowing he slept above me didn't help any either.

I tossed and turned, and finally, unable to find sleep, I went into the office extra early on Friday morning. I was so nervous, I couldn't eat anything, so I only drank some coffee. I had no idea what Eric would say about my memo. If he didn't think it was good this time, could I lose my job? I was afraid I had already lost his respect. That kind of thinking plagued my morning. I spent the early morning hours working on short, mundane, minor things since I was too preoccupied by what Eric would say to work on anything that required much focus. I heard Eric before I saw him. He greeted Pam with a curt, "Morning," then he went into his office, setting down his briefcase and turning on his computer. After he got settled in, he walked over to my office, with my memo in his hands.

"Sookie, is this the best you can do?" he asked again. It was like Groundhog Day and if I wasn't so stressed, I would have laughed.

"Yes! Yes Eric, it is. I've looked at the research from every angle possible, I came up with theories that we could use in our case, as well as possible theories that the plaintiffs may try to use against us. I also came up with arguments to counter those theories. There isn't anything else, it is as good as it is ever going to get!" I exclaimed, exasperated. I regretted my agitated tone, but with the week's tension over this memo coupled with my lack of sleep, I simply spoke my mind. I just couldn't take it anymore. Maybe I am not the lawyer he thought I was. Maybe I wasn't as smart as he thought I was. I was at the point where I almost didn't care anymore. This memo was the best I could do and there was no amount of work that I could do to improve upon it.

"Okay, then I will read it," he said matter-of-factly.

"W—w-wait … what?" I stuttered, unable to comprehend what he just said. "You mean, you haven't read it yet?" I asked.

"Well, no Sookie. I only want to read the best you can do. If this is it, then I'll look at it," he said with a self-satisfied smile. Smug bastard. I'd been had. Yes, he was trying to teach me a lesson. My work product should always be the best I could do, but he was putting me through my paces too. I am certain my mouth was hanging open as I sat there, dumbfounded. With a smirk, he walked out.

**A/N: When I used to practice in a large firm, it was rumored that this really happened to some poor first year associate. I don't know if it is true or not, but after I heard this legend, I was sure to make sure my work was always the best I could do. **


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 – A Run In at the Gym

Come Saturday, I knew I should have gone into the office to catch up on some of my work that was waylaid by the whole "Is this the best you can do" episode. At least, that is what I started to call it in my mind. I was still mad, mostly at myself, about that situation and I thought that instead what I really needed was a good work out to refocus my energy. My new apartment had a gym on the second floor and I had yet to use it. Sometimes I would run, although I hated it. I only did it when I was short on time and needed to get in some type of work out. It was time efficient; I could burn a lot of calories in a short period of time. But truth be told, my passion, other than the law, was yoga. And not just any yoga, but Ashtanga yoga. It is a vigorous practice and I love the discipline I developed from doing the same sequence every practice. Even though the sequence was the same, the practice never was, depending on how I felt that day, physically and mentally. Being a Saturday, I had time, so I grabbed my mat and headed down to the gym.

I stepped out of the elevator onto the second floor and right into Eric Northman. Literally. I face planted into his very sweaty, hard, taut, muscular chest… but I digress. Seriously, this was really becoming a somewhat annoying habit. After we collided, we regained our balance and our eyes met. Of course, he was smirking. I wanted to forestall any sort of snide remarks, so I just jumped right in.

"I know, I know," I interjected, "Yada yada, wear a bell, yada yada, it's becoming a habit. Seriously, I have no idea why this keeps happening," I said in a very exasperated way. God, I needed to do my yoga.

"Maybe it's happening because you're drawn to me," Eric said with a slight, but adorable leer. I just couldn't stay mad, or exasperated, in the face of his waggling brows and I laughed in spite of myself.

"You coming or going?" I asked.

"Coming actually. I hate running on treadmills when the weather is so nice, so I did my run outside and now I'm going to lift weights. Yoga huh?" Eric asked, nodding in the direction of my yoga mat.

"Yeah, I love it, what can I say?" I shrugged. I was used to people, especially men, commenting on me doing yoga. I didn't need to be a mind reader to know that they drew certain conclusions about me, i.e., they thought it meant I was easy, sexy, flexible (which was actually true), that I was good in bed (which I had no basis to form any opinion about), or any number of other assumptions that men tend to make about women who do yoga. I'd become numb to it.

"I need something more challenging than yoga, you should try weights," Eric suggested. I stifled my laugh, but I could not restrain my smile.

"Seriously? Have you ever tried Ashtanga yoga? Or Bikram yoga? I think you would find yourself more than challenged," I said with a laugh. He looked confused and I knew immediately that his idea of yoga was a bunch of women sitting around in lotus position chanting Om. "Let's just say the type of yoga I do appeals to a lot of type As. Madonna's big guns? Ashtanga yoga. Sting's physique? Ashtanga yoga." I purposefully left out the part about the 12 hour tantric sex-capades that it's claimed Sting could do, in part as a result of his yoga practice. I didn't really need to go there. "I started doing yoga in law school and other than my roommate Amelia and my deep love of coffee, my yoga practice kept me sane. It's empowering, like a very demanding moving meditation. You should give it a try," I suggested.

Eric's face broke into a huge smile. "Are you going to teach me Sookie?"

I hesitated, but only for a moment. "Well, I've never taught anyone before, but if you're serious, then yeah, I guess I would. I know a lot of guys tend to shy away from yoga, in part because they aren't naturally flexible and they think it's emasculating, but I promise, the practice is equal parts strength and flexibility. Besides, if men aren't flexible, then shouldn't they work on that? I mean, I find people always tend to avoid exactly what it is that they need. It's human nature to play to our strengths and avoid doing anything that really challenges us." At my words, Eric's smile fell a little and he seemed more contemplative.

After a pause, he said "Maybe you're right Sookie," and there was a whole other world of meaning in his words, but for the life of me, I didn't know what it was.

"Well, if you're serious, let me know," and with that, I walked towards the gym with Eric right behind me. He picked up his pace, and before I reached the door his long arm reached out from behind me and pushed it open. I appreciated the gesture and gave him a smile in thanks.

Eric went over to the weight machines and I went into the aerobics room. The gym was very open and airy, much like the apartments. It had all of the bells and whistles too: showers, locker rooms, saunas, steam rooms, even a juice bar by the entrance. Of course, like most gyms, there were mirrors everywhere. The cardio machines lined one wall and the weights another. The aerobics room was located at the end of the gym, separated only by a glass wall, so everyone could see what was going on inside. I suspect it helped get people to join the myriad fitness classes that the gym offered. One would be more likely to join a class if they knew what they were getting themselves into. Luckily, I had timed this right and there were no classes scheduled to go on while I was using the room. So, I unfurled my mat, stood at the front of it with my hands in prayer position, and mentally recited the opening mantra. Once I was done I took a deep cleansing breath.

I don't know what possessed me, but before I started the poses, I turned my head and looked out the glass wall and what I saw caused my breath to catch in my throat. Eric was doing squats in his oh so short running shorts, with his back to the glass wall. He moved up and down rhythmically, his glutes clenching on the way up and releasing on the way down. His toned, muscular thighs strained with the additional weights he carried in his hands, and his sweat rain in rivulets down his body, accentuating each and every muscle under the florescent lights. He was so mouthwatering; I couldn't help but openly admire the view. After a moment or so, his set was done and before he could put his weights down and catch me staring at him, I quickly turned back to face the front of my mat. I was so disappointed in myself. This was so very un-yogic of me. I took a few more centering breaths to try to get myself focused on my practice, but the image of Eric's backside was forever seared into the backs of my eyelids. I could think of worse things to have burned into one's mind's eye, but it was distracting nonetheless.

Since centering breaths were failing me, I decided to just begin my practice. I started moving through my Sun Salutations, establishing a rhythm with my breathing and my movement into the poses. By the time I was through with the standing sequence, and starting on the seated sequence, I had regained my composure. Sure, a few times, especially in forward bends, I could see people watching me through the glass, but that wasn't unexpected. While I view the practice of yoga as a beautiful thing, I know that not everyone shares my appreciation, at least not in the same way I do. I know a lot of gawkers view it as being sexually suggestive, but again, after having done the practice for three years, I was used to some ogling. I tried to brush off the fact that people may have been watching me, but, if I were being completely honest with myself, a few times I saw a tall blond head turned in my direction and it did make me a little more self conscious in my practice. I didn't want to fall out of any of my poses or otherwise move through the practice like a klutz, so I paid extra attention to the poses and how I moved in and out of them.

Just over an hour later, I was at the difficult closing sequence: backbends, shoulder stand, headstand, and a few lotus pose variations. By then, I had forgotten all about any spectators as I tried to put all of my effort into these challenging poses. Once I had gotten through them, I was ready for the last pose - savasana, the corpse pose. It's the pose where you lie on your back and absorb the practice, or as more often than not, recover from the practice. I got up and went to get my eye pillow from my things to rest on my eyes while I lay in the pose and I noticed that Eric was watching me. It wasn't creepy at all. He actually seemed, I don't know how to describe it, impressed? Awestruck maybe? I gave him a smile; he was so busted and he knew it. He smiled back and then walked off to what I assumed were the showers. I tried not to think too much about that as I cleared my mind for relaxation, but relaxation was elusive this practice.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 – Face Time

On Sunday morning I resolved to go into the office. I wasn't looking to just put in some face time. That's what it's called when junior lawyers come into the office on weekends with the express purpose of letting the senior lawyers who also came on the weekends know that they are so dedicated to the firm that they give up their weekend time to work, whether the work demands it of them or not. I actually had legitimate work that I needed to do. Spending a week working on a single memo had put me behind in my other tasks, so I needed to catch up. And let's face it, if I'm expected to bill 1900 hours a year, then working on weekends was inevitable. It was a fact of life, especially for a new associate.

The office was oppressively hot and stuffy. The firm must turn off the air-conditioning on the weekends, probably to save money. I was glad that it was the weekend and I was able to wear a pair of khaki shorts, my favorite red tank top and some wedge sandals. I set down to my desk, turned on my computer, and while it booted up, I pulled my hair into a high pony tail. I had just really settled in to my work when Alcide came by my office. He was dressed casually too, in jean shorts, a green t-shirt and Birkenstocks.

"Hey Sook! How's it going? You putting in some face time?" he asked with a grin. Alcide was always happy and I was glad that we worked together, especially with some of the other tensions I had experienced at work so far.

"No, Alcide, I have real work to do," I replied, and then I proceeded to tell him all about the "Is this the best you can do" episode. We laughed about it for a while and I was happy that I had a couple of days distance from the event, which made my laughter possible.

"Man Sookie, that is a tough week, but I think I may have you beat," Alcide said with a sly grin.

"Oh gosh Alcide, this I have to hear! Spill," I demanded. Alcide's grin grew wider and he stuck his head outside of my office to make sure the coast was clear. For good measure, he closed my door. It seemed that without the air-conditioner humming in the background, everything seemed louder and if Alcide was trying to make sure no one else would hear what he had to say, I knew it had to be good.

"Well, now that you aren't working on Bill's cases, he called me into his office this week to get me to do some work on them. I was sitting in his office, with my legal pad, taking notes on various cases, issues to research and whatnot, and then Bill stood up and said 'Walk and talk with me Alcide.' So I got up and started following him. Bill talked the whole time so I was taking notes and walking and I didn't even notice it when we went into the men's room until we were already inside. Then, get this, Bill goes right into a stall and starts to take a shit. I mean a god honest 10 minute shit. The whole time he's talking to me from his stall, pausing to grunt and strain every now and again, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Sook, people were coming in and out of the men's' room eying me like I was a total idiot. And by god, I was!"

"Alcide, you win! Your week was so much worse than mine," I squealed. I was so glad I was a woman and Bill couldn't pull that shit – literally – with me, although I suppose I did have other things to contend with when it came to him.

"Sookie, all I'm saying is if I were you, I'd try not to shake his hands, or touch things he has touched. You may want to carry around some anti-bacterial gel too. Let's just say, he doesn't always use soap."

"Om my god, Alcide. TMI! TMI! But all the same, thanks for the warning," and we roared with laughter over Alcide's incident until I had tears coming from the corners of my eyes. As our laughter finally started to die down, there was a knock on my door and Alcide and I locked eyes, wide with shock. Without waiting for an answer, the door opened and, thankfully, it was Eric and not Bill.

After a long pause where Eric just looked back and forth between me and Alcide, he broke the ice and asked "What's so funny?" I didn't feel it was my place to say anything about this to Eric, as it was Alcide's story to tell. It was also clear Alcide didn't feel comfortable telling one partner about another partner's odd behavior, even if it was about Bill, so he just tried to play it off.

"Oh, nothing, we're just talking," Alcide said, lamely trying to cover.

"Yeah, just shooting the shit," I said, barely able to restrain another bout of laughter. Alcide looked so red in the face; I thought he was going to lose it.

"Well, if it isn't anything important, Sookie, since you're here, I'd like to talk to you about work. Alcide, isn't that why you're here today? To work?" Eric asked and the laughter was over.

Eric stood in my doorway while Alcide quickly regained his composure and said, "Yes Mr. Northman. I was just leaving to do just that." Eric proceeded to watch Alcide as he walked all the way down the hall and Eric didn't look back in my direction until, I assume, Alcide had turned the corner to his own office. Of course, I could hear Alcide's faint laughter down the hall and it made me smile.

"Sookie, do you have a moment?" Eric asked me, more civilly than he had addressed Alcide.

"Sure thing Eric and I got up, grabbed a notepad and headed into Eric's office to discuss work.

…

For the rest of July, August, and September I established a pretty regular routine. I'd work during the week, usually from about 7:30am until 7:00pm. I'd also come into the office half the day on Sunday, usually in the morning, and then have dinner with Gran and Jason Sunday afternoon. Sometimes we'd eat at my apartment, but more often than not, I drove to Bon Temps and had dinner at Gran's house. Most Friday nights, Alcide and I would go to Merlotte's. We'd drink and unwind from the work week, crowd watch, and even hobnob a little. Alcide knew quite a few lawyers and business folks in Shreveport due to his family's business. And of course, I'd do my yoga, especially on Saturday where I'd always run into Eric at our gym.

I can honestly say that I had become content, happy even. Eric had taken me under his wing and other than some occasional playful banter, especially at the gym, he was nothing but professional with me. He took me on client meetings, which were always interesting. Client meetings were really required us to be part lawyer, part business advisor, part therapist, and part relationship builder. I had always been good at reading people, so I tended to have a natural rapport with Eric's clients. Eric also let me observe him in the courtroom arguing motions, but since we still didn't know if I passed the bar yet, I couldn't make an official appearance in court. Eric critiqued my work and told me how I could improve and be more persuasive in my motions. Most importantly, he really wanted to know my thoughts on his cases and in particular, the Avery case. Although the learning curve was completely vertical, I was adjusting, growing and learning. Even after three months of work, I could look back on my earliest work and tell I had improved as a lawyer, and I knew that I owed it to Eric Northman.

Then, one day in October, shortly into lunch, I got a call in my office from Alcide.

"Sookie, go home right now and check your mail. Bar results are in," he said.

"Alcide, where are you?" I asked. It sounded like he was driving.

"A friend called to tell me the bar results were mailed out, so I drove home and mine was in my mailbox. I passed Sook! I passed!" Alcide couldn't contain his excitement and I smiled at his good news.

"That's great Alcide. Look, I'm going to run home. Hopefully the mailman has come." I was incredibly happy for Alcide, but my anxiety was escalating. I silently wondered "What if Alcide passed and I didn't" but I tried to push that thought away. I refused to look at Alcide as the competition and regardless of the outcome, I was happy for him.

The entire drive home it seemed the universe was conspiring against me. I caught every red light, every granny in Shreveport insisted on crossing the street as soon as my car approached an intersection, and I even had a panicked moment when I thought I had left my apartment's garage ID card at the office. When I got to the building's mailboxes, my heart fell when I opened my mailbox and found it was empty. The mail hadn't arrived yet. By this time, it was close to 1:00pm and I knew the mail should arrive any moment. I went down to the central receiving area and paced just outside the door, hoping to catch the mailman before he dropped off all of the mail. A very slow, agonizing forty-five minutes later, I saw the mailman approach. Usually the mailman just dropped the box of mail off and the building sorted it out and put it in the residents' mailboxes. However, I simply couldn't wait for that. I accosted the mailman and pled my case.

"Hey… Jim" I said, looking at his name badge. Jim was a lean, middle-aged African American man, wearing the U.S. Post Office's summer attire - shorts and short sleeve shirt, with a wide brim hat. "I hate to do this to you, but I have an emergency and need my mail right away. I'm Sookie Stackhouse and I'm expecting a letter. I wouldn't stop you like this, but it's really important. Can you please either pull it out for me, or let me look for it? Here's my ID. I am who I say I am. It really is my mail after all." I begged, holding out my drivers' license.

"Well … Sookie, I can't let you go through the mail. I usually just drop it off to your building's central receiving and they sort it out. Can't you wait and get it from them? I've got the rest of my mail run to do," he said and he looked really sorry.

"Please, I would so owe you. This really is an emergency. I just have to get it now," I pled, with my hands clasped tightly in front of my chin. I was literally begging.

After a moment of hesitation, I was really thought Jim would say no. I was under so much stress; I felt tears well up in my eyes. God, I wasn't really going to cry over this, was I? Finally, Jim capitulated, "Oh, maybe just this once," he said as he set the box of mail down on the floor and started sifting through. When he came to my mail he pulled all of the pieces together and handed them to me. I snatched the bundle of mail from his hand and sorted though it quickly until I came to a letter from the Louisiana Bar Association. I held it, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then I did something that shocked both me and Jim. I threw my arms around his neck and whispered, "Thank you, thank you." Melodramatic, I know, but what can I say? I was overcome with emotion.

Jim gave me a smile, picked up the mail and walked towards central receiving, leaving me with my mail and my thoughts. It was as if the entire universe stood still. I stared at the letter for a while, as if I could suddenly develop x-ray vision and see the results through the envelope. Jim came out from central receiving moments later and saw me still standing there holding my letter. "Well Sookie, after all of that, aren't you going to open it? I have to say, I'm mightily interested now. I have to see what has gotten you all in a tizzy."

"Yeah, sure, um, okay," I eloquently said. I put my finger under the seal and worked my finger across the top of the envelope. My hands were shaking and that caused me to fumble when I unfolded the letter. I eventually got it open and then let out a sigh. I looked up at Jim who was waiting patiently when I threw my arms around his neck again and shouted, "I passed the bar! I'm officially a lawyer!"

**A/N: Actually, the poop story really happened to a friend of mine his first year practicing law. Gross, I know. I also had tons of fun giving him shit over it (ha, ha!).**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 – Passing the Bar

The firm had a party at Merlotte's for me and Alcide to celebrate our passing of the bar exam. At 5:30p.m., we showed up at the bar and we were greeted by cheers from all of the lawyers and staff. Chow, on cue, popped open a bottle of champagne. Sam was there too, standing behind the bar grinning from ear to ear. Sophie Ann stood there in front of the bar beaming and after everyone had a full glass, she raised her voice and her glass, "To Sookie and Alcide! We welcome you to the ranks of lawyers. Congratulations to you both and may you experience much success in your career!" We all clinked our glasses and drank our champagne.

After about an hour you could tell people were starting to feel the effects of the flowing drinks. Watching people as they increasingly became inebriated reminded of what Sam told me about the practice of law driving lawyers to drink. I could start to see the truth in that for myself.

Something else I noticed was that Debbie was all over Alcide. She was pretty and I could tell he liked the attention, but she was just so grotesque in how she flaunted herself in front of him. Anytime Alcide tried to talk to me, she would stare daggers at me. I noticed she had some whispered conversations with Bill, Lorena, and Selah. I had no idea what she was saying, but the way her eyes kept darting to me, I knew it couldn't be good. At one point, she even tried to approach Pam and Eric, but by the heated looks they gave her, I could tell that whatever she had hoped to accomplish there wasn't going anywhere.

I mentally debated what, if anything, I should do. In a way, I didn't want to get caught up in Debbie's drama, but at the same time, I wanted to protect my reputation to the extent I could. I tried to talk to Alcide, indirectly, about it at first.

"Alcide, what do you think about Debbie?" I softballed.

"She's nice," he said, without expounding. Men.

"She sure seems to like you," I said, fishing for more.

"You think? I don't know. I guess I never really thought about her like that. You know, if I was going to start some sort of workplace romance, I always thought it would be with you," Alcide said matter-of-factly.

"Alcide…" I started, but I really didn't know what to say in response to that. I mean, Debbie was a complete and total bitch, and I didn't want to saddle someone as nice as Alcide with her, but at the same time, I didn't really think of Alcide like that. I considered him a good friend. Sure, a good looking good friend, but nothing really beyond that.

"Sookie, we get along so well, and I consider you to be a good friend. Of course, I would love to have something more between us than that, but I get where you are right now. The start of work hasn't exactly been that easy for you, and although I'd love to see if this" he said pointing between us, "could be more, I can be patient. Right now, as long as I have your friendship then that is enough."

Alcide was so sweet and tender. I wish I felt more for him than I did. I didn't know exactly what to say, so I gave him a shy smile and held up my beer, "To friends," I said, with a question in my voice.

"To friends," Alcide said, putting his arm around me and giving me a half hug.

At one point during the celebration, I went to the restroom and when I went in, Lorena was at the sink. When our eyes met, she gave me a death stare until I walked past her and went into a stall. She was gone by the time I came out. When I walked out of the bathroom, Bill was standing there in the corridor waiting.

"Sookie," Bill said, and I was hit with the smell of very old, expensive Scotch.

"Hey Bill. Lorena was in here but she left before me," I said.

"Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, I was waitin' for you. I don't hardly to get to see you anymore since you aren't workin' on my cases. I wanted to talk to you, see how you're doing. How's workin' for Eric? Is he treating you okay? You know, he can be a first class prick, and is a known womanizer. I want to make sure you know what kind of man he is. He can't be trusted you know. I heard he got you into his building. That is just the first step to getting into your pants. You know I only care for your best interests Sookie," Bill slurred. During his statement he moved closer to me until I was pinned with my back to the wall. I had to turn my head from his face because his mouth was getting too close to me and his breath was heavy with alcohol.

"Bill, I think you've had too much to drink. You don't want to do anything you'd regret," I warned.

"The only thing I regret is letting you get away," Bill said as he closed the distance and forced a kiss on me. I tried to scream, but opening my mouth just gave him an opening for his tongue. I pushed against his chest with both hands, but he held me tight.

I was finally able to push Bill back a bit, and while our lip lock broke, his arm lock did not. "Sookie, why are you fighting me? I know you want me. Debbie told me how you regretted getting reassigned from my cases, and I saw you looking at me tonight. I want you Sookie, just like you want me," and Bill attempted to move in for another kiss. I turned my head and pushed with all of my might, but then Bill was suddenly physically removed from me by a very irate Eric. And then Eric punched Bill in the mouth.

"Get the fuck off her," Eric seethed. "Lorena," Eric shouted over his shoulder. She came hustling over and Eric tossed Bill in her direction, effectively throwing him into her. "You need to keep you dog on a leash."

Lorena tumbled back into the wall when Bill was tossed into her, but she recovered quickly when she took in the scene. "If I had to guess, I would say that bitch was the cause of any trouble here. She was probably coming onto Bill. I know her type. If you aren't fucking her, then I suppose any partner will do, even if he's married," Lorena spat.

I was outraged, "Listen here you. I didn't do a goddamned thing! He accosted me," I shouted.

"I think this was all a misunderstanding," Bill interrupted, wiping the blood from his lip. Lorena seemed to notice at that moment that Bill was bleeding.

"You'll pay for this Northman! You'll be lucky if we don't press charges," she said as she dragged Bill out of the bar behind her. Surprisingly, our little altercation had not garnered much attention at all and seemed to be over as quickly as it had begun.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked, grabbing my arms and looking me straight in the eye.

I had a hard time meeting Eric's gaze. I was so furious and really started to wonder why this kept happening to me. What did I do to warrant this unwanted attention? And then as my gaze shifted, I saw Debbie Pelt smiling at me from one of the tables, sipping her cocktail. Right then, I knew the cause, at least of this little incident. As my understanding dawned, her smile grew.

I then looked up at Eric, "I'm fine, really. I think I'm done celebrating," I said with a shaky voice. Apparently, my voice wasn't the only thing that was shaky. As I tried to stand and take a step away from Eric, my legs gave way. Eric caught me up and held me close to his chest. His cologne smelled fantastic, but even better, beneath it, I could smell him. It was a scent of pure masculinity. He held me there for a moment or two until I was more composed and I continued to breath him in.

"I'm taking you home. You can ride into the office with me tomorrow to get your car then. I'm not letting you drive in this condition."

"I'm fine really," I said.

"Oh Sookie, I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night," and despite myself, I laughed. "There you go," Eric said beaming, clearly pleased that he was able to lighten my mood. "Besides, I'm not releasing you onto the driving public. Come on," he said, with his arm around my shoulder and he led me out of the bar.

The drive was quiet and Eric walked me all the way to my door. I got out my key and when I opened the door I turned to look up at him. I was conflicted about the next steps. "Do you want to come in?" I asked. I both hoped and prayed he would say yes… and no. God, I was so confused. Instead, Eric just slowly shook his head.

"I think you should rest," and with that, he leaned in slowly. Whether it was due to his gravitational pull, I'm not sure, but I leaned into him with my chin tilted up and my eyes closed. After a moment, I felt his soft warm lips press into my forehead. My eyes fluttered open and Eric was smiling at me. "Good night Sookie," he said and he turned, walking towards the elevator. I stood in the doorway until Eric walked into the elevator and the doors closed behind him. I slowly closed my apartment door, locking it behind me, and I leaned up against the back of it, allowing it to absorb my weight. I let out a long slow breath that I didn't realize I had been holding and I pressed my fingers into my lips. I am so totally screwed.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – First Case

After I got sworn in, I was officially a lawyer; ready to go to court and do all the things that lawyers do. Pam surprised me the morning after the swearing-in ceremony by bringing me my business cards, with a great big pink bow on the box. They read "Sookie Stackhouse, Esq." and I couldn't have been more tickled.

"You're official, Ms. Stackhouse," Pam grinned.

"Aw, thanks Pam, you've outdone yourself with the bow," I replied.

"Well, I would have gotten you pink card stock, but apparently that doesn't conform to the firm's standards on business cards. Oh, and by the way, Eric said he wanted to see you." Pam had started call to Eric by his first name in my presence. After more than a month of working with them both, I finally got to see into that little window in their world and the true nature of their relationship. It made me like and respect them both all the more.

"Will do," I said, hopping up from my seat and grabbing my legal pad. I gave a cursory knock on Eric's open door before I walked in and took the seat opposite his desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Now that you are officially a Louisiana lawyer, you're ready for your first case. Here is a file for a commercial eviction proceeding. Our client is the landlord. They have begun eviction proceedings against the tenant for non-payment of rent. Unless you can settle it, the case goes to trial next week in district court," he said, handing me the file and clasping his hands across his stomach.

"You mean, you want me to help you with this case?" I asked for clarification.

"No Sookie. This case is yours and yours alone. Of course, if you go to trial, I'll sit in and observe, but you are lead counsel on this case."

"Om my gosh! Thank you, thank you Eric! Next week huh? I mean, is it ready?" I asked. I was afraid. I was afraid Eric would change his mind about giving me the case, but I was also afraid that this time next week I could be standing before a jury arguing my client's case, having only been a licensed lawyer for all of one week.

"Sookie, you are ready for this. If it is any consolation, the eviction court only determines who has the right to possess the premises. They can't award monetary damages. Of course, once you get the tenant out of the property, then you can proceed with the suit for damages, if the client wants. They may want to cut their losses if this tenant is insolvent though."

For the next week, I was giddy with excitement. I know, I'm a nerd, getting excited over a trial, but this is what I have always wanted to do. It is what I so desperately wanted to prove that I was good at doing. And while it isn't a murder case, or anything quite so harrowing, it is a matter that is important to my client and I wanted to do a good job and get a winning result. I had a feeling that this case was important to set the precedent for my career, so I worked diligently, pulling many late nights both at the office and at home working on getting the case ready.

After a few days, it was clear that my new case wasn't settling. We had one settlement conference a couple of days after Eric gave me the case and it was a total failure. I have always been a good judge of people. For as long as I could recall, I could intuit people's true nature by just observing them for a while. In this case, the tenant, Phillip Montgomery, was a rich kid who used his inheritance to start a photography and videography business. It was abundantly clear to me that Phil liked getting aspiring models to pose for him on film, and then in his bed. It was also apparent to me that he was use to having his rich aunt buy him out of trouble. The ancient Mrs. Vivian Montgomery attended the settlement conference and I had no doubt that she would be attending the trial as well.

As for the case itself, Phil was more interested in bedding would be models than paying his rent. After being delinquent for a few months through his sheer inattention, the landlord terminated his contract and started eviction proceedings. Phil tried to avoid getting served with the eviction notice and then he tried to pay the back rent. Maybe if he hadn't been so evasive, the landlord would have accepted the back rent, but by that point, the landlord had enough and didn't want anything else to do with him. It didn't help that Phil had been trying to "photograph" the property manager's daughter either.

The night before the trial I took my work home and had papers and exhibits spread throughout my living room. Then, at about 8:30, there was a knock on my door. I shifted some papers to give me room to get up and I trotted to the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by Eric, with bags of the most delicious smelling Chinese food. This was my first trial and one thing I was learning about myself was that when I'm preparing for trial, I forget to eat. The smell of General Tso's Chicken reminded me of my personal neglect.

"I thought you could use some dinner," Eric said.

"Come in! You shouldn't have. This is so thoughtful Eric," I gushed.

"I remember what it was like when I had my first trial too." Eric walked over to the kitchen, but not before he took in the scene in the living room. It was like a paper bomb had exploded. He simply smiled, shook his head and walked over to the kitchen island to set down the bags of food. He fished out some chopsticks and several paper boxes full of Chinese goodness. "Eat," he said, handing me a box and chopsticks.

We ate and talked, mostly about the case, but also about nothing of any real significance. It felt good to talk to someone about anything really, but especially about the case. At least, it felt good talking to someone about it who actually understood what I was saying. It wasn't exactly like I could talk about it to Gran or Jason. I mean, I could, but they just wouldn't care. Sure, Gran may nod her head politely, which was a hell of a lot more than what Jason would do, but between the three of us, this case only mattered to me. Also, talking about work often sounded like I was talking a foreign language, one that no one but lawyers cared to learn. So, bending Eric's ear, getting his advice, strategizing, it was exhilarating and refreshing. And if I were being honest with myself, spending time with Eric made me happy in all kinds of ways.

We were sitting on the floor across from each other. Eric was pretending to be Phil and I was practicing my cross-examination. "So, Mr. Montgomery, you didn't pay your August, September and October rent on time, did you?"

"No, I …" Eric said distractedly. Then he leaned over with a grin and wiped Chinese sauce from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. And then he sucked his thumb clean. I was more than a little flustered by that intimate act.

"Sorry, you had some sauce …" Eric began, but he never got to finish his sentence because I closed the distance between us and kissed him. The kiss began with just a firm press of my lips into his with our bodies still separated by the distance between us. But then the kiss deepened and Eric began to reciprocate, in earnest. And boy was he earnest. Our lips parted for our tongues and then our bodies moved towards each other. My arms went around Eric's neck and my hands went into his hair, stroking and tugging. His large hands pulled me by the waist and into his lap. The next thing I knew, we were laying on the floor, with him pressed on top of me and me pressed on top my trial exhibits. I was completely oblivious to the binder clips digging into my back and we were kissing each other for all we were worth. We continued for some time. I surrendered my brain to instinct and allowed my body to take over. Our hands began to explore each others' bodies – my hands dutifully mapping his planes and his hands tracking my curves.

Because I was prepping for trial at home, I was dressed casually, in loose cotton pajama bottoms and a fitted t-shirt. Eric shifted so he was laying half-way on me, supporting himself with one arm while his free hand slowly massaged and squeezed my breasts. His fingers squeezed my taut, aching nipples through my thin t-shirt and I arched my back up, pressing my breasts further into his touch. Eric then moved his hand down to my waist, then my hips, taking time to squeeze and stroke me. His hand continued its journey down my body and found its way into my pants. I was grinding against him, desperate for the friction. Eric rewarded me when his fingers found my most sensitive area and I gasped at the feel of him. He worked me over and over, circling my bundle of nerves, and when I thought I would most certainly spontaneously combust, his long fingers entered me, causing the most delicious sensations within me to build to even greater heights. My breath hitched and I began to squirm under his touch, but Eric's grip firmly held me in place. I moaned low and deep into Eric's mouth and then felt his thumb move to my clit. I was wet with my arousal and I could tell that Eric was feeling the same, as his impressive hard length pressed into my thigh. The warm sensation that was building in my core spread out throughout my body and I was soon screaming out my release. Eric's hand remained where it was and slowly drew my orgasm out in the most delicious way.

Just was I was regaining my senses and reaching for the tail of his shirt so that I could reciprocate, my cell phone rang. And it rang. We froze for a moment, staring into each others' eyes until the phone stopped ringing. I moved in to kiss Eric again, but then the phone began to ring again.

"Maybe you should get that," Eric said. We held each other's gaze and I watched as his eyes went from lust to regret in no time flat; I could tell that the moment was lost. After a pregnant pause the size of the Mighty Mississippi, Eric apologized, "I'm sorry Sookie, I didn't mean to do this to you. Really, I just wanted to help you prep for your trial. I didn't have any other motives, honest." He got up and pulled himself together and started heading towards my door.

I grabbed my phone and hurriedly answered, "Hello!" I guess I was a little more terse than I normally am when I answered the phone.

"Young lady! Is that any way to answer the phone?" my Gran chastised.

"Gran hold on a sec," I said and then shouted to Eric, "Wait!"

Eric had already reached the door and had his hand on the knob. He left his hand there, but slowly turned towards me. "You have nothing to apologize for. That was completely my fault. Well, not fault, I wanted to …" but then I could hear Gran shouting at me through the phone and I was distracted.

"Sookie, it's okay. I take full responsibility. It won't happen again," Eric said and he left.

I was bereft. I didn't regret for one moment what we had done, but did he, I wondered. Maybe my coming onto him like that was unfair. Sure we had a friendly, teasing sort of relationship, but he is my mentor and he never indicated that he wanted our relationship to be more than that. I probably just crossed the line and embarrassed myself and him in the process. I got back to my call with Gran and when we got off the phone I stared at my living room, recalling the pleasure and confusion of a few short moments ago. With nothing left to do, I tidied up my living room and headed off to bed, but I knew sleep would not easily find me.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 – Trial

The next morning I was up early, or maybe I had just never really gone to sleep, I wasn't completely sure. Eric and I needed to talk, but that would have to wait. I had court - and trial - today, and that was my first priority.

I got into the office early. So early in fact, most of the lights were still off and no one had yet come in and made the coffee. I bypassed the kitchen area altogether. I didn't think I could eat or drink anything with my stress. Knowing me, if I consumed anything I'd throw it up all over counsel's table. So, I went to my office, settled in and started to get my things together. Pam came in at about 7:45a.m., just as I was loading up my stuff to go to the courthouse.

"Good luck, Sookie," she chimed. She was practically happy - for Pam. Her demeanor caught me off guard, but then I realized it was because we were alone. No one was in the office yet, including Eric.

"Thanks Pam. Look, I'm going to head over to court and get ready for trial. Eric said he was going to watch the trial, but he isn't in yet and I don't want to wait for him any longer. Will you tell him I'm already at the courthouse?"

"Sure Sookie," she said, finally taking me in. Whether she could see the effects stress or lack of sleep on my appearance, I wasn't sure, but she asked me, "Are you okay?"

After a sigh, I replied, "Just peachy Pam. See ya later," and I left.

The courthouse was relatively quiet. I went into the courtroom and greeted the bailiff. I took the plaintiff's counsel table and organized my materials. A short while later, Phil came in with his ancient aunt, who was decked out in furs and diamonds no less. Where did she think she was? Buckingham Palace? They were accompanied by their lawyer, Mr. Head. His name was literally Richard Head … need I say more? He was a withered old man who handled a variety of cases, and had apparently been working with Mrs. Montgomery for quite some years. We politely greeted each other and then went silently back to work.

At 8:30a.m. sharp, the bailiff stated, "All rise. The Honorable Judge Woodstone presiding. All those having matters before this court, come forward and ye shall be heard." Everyone rose and then the judge then entered the courtroom saying at the same time, "You may be seated." The judge was in her mid-40s and was known as a fair judge who ran a tight ship. She reminded me a lot of a young Judge Judy. The door to the courtroom opened as we were all taking our seats, and I saw a figure from the corner of my eye. I turned to look and saw Eric enter the row of seats just behind me. Our eyes met and I gave him a small smile.

"Today it appears we have the matter of Baringer Property vs. Montgomery before the court. Would counsel please identify themselves for the record?"

I rose to my feet and said in my most confident voice, "Sookie Stackhouse for the Plaintiff, Baringer Property." She gave me a short nod, and I sat again.

"Dick Head for the Defendant, Phil Montgomery," the wizened lawyer next to me stated. Despite my efforts at professionalism, I almost lost it when the bailiff gave a short giggle. Judge Woodstone gave him a withering stare and the bailiff quickly got his features under control.

"What say you counsel?" the judge asked, turning towards me.

I rose to speak, as is customary when addressing the court, "Your Honor, we have attempted settlement negotiations, to no avail, and we would like to proceed to jury trial your honor. The issues to be decided are whether Mr. Montgomery in fact received proper notice of his lease termination, as required by the contract, and whether Baringer Property waived its right to receive timely rent from Mr. Montgomery."

"Your Honor," Mr. Head said, "I concur with Ms. Stackhouse, and we are ready to proceed to trial."

"Very well counsel," the Judge said, and then she turned to her assistant who handed her two stacks of papers. The Judge handed those stacks to the bailiff, who brought them over to me and Mr. Head. They were the jury profiles. We would seat a jury of six and these sheets were the basic information each juror had completed prior to their service here today. The information provided were things such as their name, zip code, date of birth, marital status, occupation, and whether they had ever been a party to a lawsuit. We had maybe 15 minutes to review these sheets before the jury would be brought in and then we would begin voir dire – the process of asking the potential jury members questions to determine who would get stricken for cause, because of something such as knowing one of the parties or being irreparably biased, and those who be stricken preemptively. Both my client and the defendant would get three preemptive strikes each. We could use them for any reason or no reason, just not for a bad reason. That is, we could strike anyone for the way they dressed, the color of their hair, their profession, they way they looked at us, almost anything really, except for something like race. That would be a violation of the law.

Eric leaned over the rail and my shoulder to get a better look at the jury sheets. I could see his shadow and smell his cologne and it almost drove me to distraction. "Do you need any help?" he whispered. I would have loved for him to sit with me at counsel table, to have his advice and support, but I also wanted to do this on my own.

"No, I got this," I said. I thumbed through the sheets quickly. I had a general idea of who I did and didn't want seated on my jury. I didn't want any young women, women who could be swayed by Phil's good looks and charm. Rich, good looking young men were out too, as they may relate too closely to Phil. Business people, professionals, people in positions of authority, would be good; people who would not like Phil's inattention to paying his rent on time. I wanted middle class people too, particularly middle aged women, or older women with daughters the same age as the ones that Phil would prey on. I knew they would be turned off by Mrs. Montgomery's ostentatious display of wealth, and Phil's looks would hold no sway with them. I quickly reviewed the sheets and marked them with my notes and preferences. Fifteen minutes later, the prospective jurors walked in. There were 24 people in all, of whom 6 would be seated for our jury. This was a simple, district court trial, which would be finished in probably no more than a couple of hours, so there would be no need to select alternates. I watched the jury pool carefully as they came in, taking note of their dress, demeanor, and the way they looked at me and the opposing side.

Once the questioning started, selecting the jury became even easier. You could tell a lot from folks about how they would answer their questions, if they offered more information than the question called for, and most importantly, their overall body language. At the end of voir dire, we had a jury of three men, and three women: a police officer and a high school principal, both of whom I knew would not be happy with Phil's inability to follow the rules, even if they were contractual ones; a business executive, who would not be impressed with Phil's business practices; a secretary for a trucking company and a stay at home mom of four small kids, both of whom I knew would be turned off by Mrs. Montgomery's excessive display of wealth; and an ER nurse, who eyed Mrs. Montgomery's attire more than once. I was quite pleased with my jury.

The trial only had one witness, and that was Phil. To say I eviscerated Phil on cross-examination would be an understatement. He admitted that he knew his landlord was fed up and would probably terminate his lease. He also admitted that tried to evade receiving notice of termination of his lease, but in the end, he was served and his signature was on the certified notice proving it.

Then he tried to claim that he had paid rent late in the past and since Baringer Property had accepted his late payments, then they had established a course of doing business that changed the terms of his lease. That is, his landlord waived the right to receive timely rent. However, it was hard row for him to hoe. After all, anytime Phil paid his rent late, Baringer Property protested it, with signed and certified letters to Phil as proof. Also, his rental agreement had a clause called "No Waiver" that specifically said that just because the rental company didn't always require strict compliance with the contract, didn't mean it couldn't insist on strict compliance later. In effect, that meant that just because Baringer Property may have accepted rent late once or twice, didn't mean it gave up its right to demand timely rent in the future.

Cross-examination was easy, mostly because the law and facts were on my client's side, but also because Phil and his tremendous ego were his worst enemies. Closing arguments were brief and, in the end, it only took the jury 10 minutes to come back and render a verdict in favor of my client.

Once the jury foreperson said, "We the jury, find in favor of the Plaintiff, Baringer Property," the judge released the jury from service. A few of the jurors hung around to talk to me, since Mr. Head didn't stick around, opting to leave the courtroom quickly with his client to, I assume, soothe them in their loss. Once the trial was over, Eric came over to congratulate me and listen to what the jurors had to say. I always said I was a good judge of people and speaking with the jury confirmed my earlier assessments. As I packed up my belongings, Eric came over to help.

"Sookie, you did a fine job. I still can't get over what a perfect jury you picked. I thought for sure you would have selected some of those young women in the jury pool for your panel, you know, women who could relate to you."

I shrugged my shoulders, "I thought that they were more Phil's type than mine. Didn't you see how two of them and how their faces completely lit up when he flashed them a big smile?"

"Hmm, I guess I didn't notice," Eric pondered.

After my things were gathered, the courtroom was empty except for the two of us. I turned to face Eric and said, "We need to talk about last night, but not here."

Eric's façade of partner fell, and he said in hushed tones, "We don't have to talk about it Sookie. It was a mistake, one I don't plan on making again." He sounded contrite.

"I didn't think it was a mistake. Doesn't my opinion mean anything?" I said, maybe more sharply than I should have. Sure, I was feeling my frustration over last night, but maybe I was also coming down from my adrenaline rush from trial as well.

"Sookie, in all honesty, it doesn't. I am a partner, you are an associate. Our roles are clear. This thing between us, it can't go anywhere."

"It can't go anywhere, or you don't want it to," I said thrusting my chin at him, challenging him.

"Don't press this Sookie," Eric warned.

"I need to know," I said, pleading him with my eyes.

After a long pause, Eric seemed resolved, and he finally responded. "No, I don't. I will not do anything to make you feel uncomfortable or ruin your reputation. I am NOT Bill Compton," Eric said forcefully.

"Is that what you think? No, you certainly are NOT Bill Compton. I don't want Bill Compton …." I said trailing off.

Just then, the door behind the judge's bench opened and out popped the A.P. "I just thought I'd let you both know that the microphones in the courtroom are still turned on, so everything you're saying, we can hear back here. Just thought you'd want to know," she said with a wry smile.

"Thank you, your Honor," Eric said gathering his composure, and then he quickly turned and walked out of the courtroom, leaving me staring at the space he had just occupied.

I turned shyly to the A.P. and she gave me a smile. "Sorry, your Honor," I apologized sheepishly.

"Dear you don't have anything to apologize for. And don't be too hard on him. It may not seem like it now, but it seems to me that Mr. Northman has your best interests at heart. I have never known him to act so … out of character."

"What do you mean?" I asked. But did I really want to know? I thought for a moment and decided, yeah, I did.

"Well, if his reputation is any indication, I have not known him to ever say no to a beautiful woman," she said with a smile.

"Lucky me," I responded sarcastically.

"Indeed Ms. Stackhouse, lucky you."

"What does that mean?"

"You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said, walking back into chambers. Now I am more confused than ever.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – Christmas

After trial, Eric and I resumed an amicable, albeit stilted, working relationship. The only person that seemed to notice the slight change was Pam. Sometimes, when she was in Eric's office and his door was closed, I could hear their raised voices. Then, when she would come out, she always seemed to be extra nice to me. Pam and I never really discussed it though, and I didn't think I wanted to talk to her about how Eric had rejected me. Sure, Eric had good reasons for rejecting me. When I thought about them, I could even understand them; I still didn't agree with them, but I could understand them. He and I never talked about it again though, and I didn't really want to since it was so painful the first time around. So, we did the only thing that we could do. We moved on. But there were moments when it would all catch up with me. Sometimes, I would get something back from Eric, like a memo or a file, and it smelled like him and his cologne. I couldn't recount all of the times I caught myself sniffing papers, or even sniffing the air in my office knowing he had recently been in there to drop something off for me. Worse yet were the times I would see him at the gym, or even as I lay in bed at night, unable to find sleep knowing he was just above me. My heart, and other parts of me, ached at the loss of what might have been.

For the next several weeks, when I would go to court, I could hear snickers and hushed voices and saw furtive glances when I entered a room. I assumed they had all probably heard about my and Eric's not so private discussion, and I was still mortified over the fact that the A.P. had witnessed it. It also didn't help that the Avery case was in the A.P.'s court either, so she would be seeing a lot more of the two of us the closer we got to trial. However, the thing with courthouse gossip is that there is always something new to come along that will cause people's tongues to wag. For me, it happened a few weeks later when the lead state prosecutor was arrested for soliciting high price call girls – or, as I liked to call it, pulling a Spitzer. Honestly, who pays for a prostitute with a personal check! Anyway, his public indiscretions were far more salacious than a mundane would-be relationship dispute between an associate and partner, which let's face it, are not exactly unheard of scandals. And thankfully by Thanksgiving I was old news.

One good thing about my little trial is that the partnership took notice. I even got congratulatory notes from Mr. Edgington and Mr. DeCastro. Naturally, Sophie Ann came to my office in person to congratulate me on my win. It seemed that Eric had gone out of his way to tell everyone what a good job I had done, and how I seemed to have a strong knack for reading people and picking a jury. Despite our issues, I deeply appreciated him for praising me to the partnership. It felt good to be recognized for my accomplishments.

Otherwise, fall turned into winter and life went on. I fell back into my routine of work, dodging Bill, and hanging out with Alcide. Of course, I still tried to see Gran for Sunday dinner, but as the holidays approached, work on the Avery case was becoming increasingly time consuming and I ended up missing a few Sunday dinners with Gran and Jason. This also meant that Eric and I were spending more and more time together, which was both a blessing and a curse. We were in the midst of discovery in our case, and Eric had arranged for us to go to our client's remote factory in northern Sweden to interview our key witnesses and review documents. We were to leave the day after Christmas and would be there for two weeks … just the two of us. I was excited to travel overseas as I hadn't ever been out of the country before, what with money being so tight growing up. I'll admit though, I was worried about going to Sweden in early winter, but Eric assured me it was better than going in January or February. At least I knew what to pack – long underwear, sweaters and a parka.

I spent Christmas Eve night at Gran's house, and even Jason slept over in his old room. We spent that night enjoying my favorite Christmas tradition – watching _It's A Wonderful Life_. It's my all time favorite movie. Although Bedford Falls is a hell of a lot bigger than Bon Temps, I always loved George Bailey and felt I could relate to him. It didn't matter that George didn't have any money (heck, he was looking at jail time due to financial issues that weren't his fault), but he had family and friends who loved him and were there when he needed them, and that made him the richest man in town. Growing up poor like we did, that movie always helped me keep my perspective. Even now that I was making good money at the firm, the movie struck a chord with me. Sure, I enjoyed the security having money provided, and the things it allowed me to do for Gran and Jason; but all of the money I was making didn't mean one whit if I didn't have my family and friends, and that was something I promised myself I'd never forget.

On Christmas morning Gran, Jason and I woke up early to open presents, just like we did when Jason and I were kids. Gran knitted me a nice sweater, which I had a feeling I'd be putting to good use in Sweden. Jason got me a gift card so I could get some stuff for my new apartment. I got Gran an Elvis box set – all of his movies on DVD, as well as his _Best of _collection on CDs. Gran loved her some Elvis. And I got Jason a chain saw that he'd asked for. After presents, we had a light breakfast and then started making our Christmas dinner. Although Jason, as always, hemmed and hawed about helping us make the dinner feeling it was below his status as the man in the family, he relented after we plied him with egg nog. Jason promised me that he'd stay the night with Gran Christmas night, since I was going to have to go back to Shreveport to catch my morning flight to Sweden, but I made sure to stay at Gran's long enough to help clean up after dinner.

As Gran and I dried the last few dishes, I could tell she was building up to talk to me about something big. Finally, Gran asked me, "Sookie, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing Gran. Just work. I'm excited about this trip," I answered truthfully.

"Hmm. What about your love life child?" she prodded. Ah, I knew exactly where this was going now. Gran always had slightly different, but recurring conversations with me and Jason. Jason was an unapologetic man-whore, and Gran always tried to get him to change his ways, find a nice girl and settle down. With me, Gran knew that I hadn't really ever dated, in part because I was focused on school and work. But now that I had my job, I knew that Gran thought there was no good reason why I shouldn't be putting myself out there on the market.

"What love life Gran? I'm too busy to have one right now," I said dismissively, but I still smiled at Gran's attempts to wheedle information from me. Now Gran would have made a fine lawyer. She always knew how to cross-examine me and Jason when she wanted to know something about us, especially if she thought we were up to no good.

"Now now, we can't ever too busy to find love Sookie," she admonished.

"Well Gran, I'm not really looking and besides, even if I was …" I trailed off, not really knowing how else to respond.

"Maybe you don't have to look. What if love is looking for you?"

"Well Gran, if love is looking for me, it's doing a piss poor job," I answered bitterly.

"Sookie Stackhouse, language please!" Gran scolded, her voice an octave higher.

"Sorry Gran," I responded quietly. "Gran, I don't have any suitors, of this I'm sure." Sure, there was Eric, but he made it clear he wasn't pursuing me. While I liked Alcide, I just didn't like him like that. And Bill was no suitor: harasser, yes; suitor, no. However, Gran wasn't one to give up so easily.

"What about that nice man that you work with and that lives in your building… Mr. Northman is it?" Gran asked coyly.

"What about him Gran?" my voice barely contained my hesitation over what she would say next.

"Well, he seems like a very nice man and he seemed awfully interested in you my dear." Well, no one ever accused Gran of subtlety.

"Gran, he is a partner, and my boss. I'm an associate. He isn't interested in me and even if he was interested in me, we can't date. It's against the rules."

"Pish-paw, Sookie. I may be an old lady, but I know when a man is interested in a woman. I remember what it was like to once be looked at by a man the way that young man looked at you," she said staring out the kitchen window and into the dark, lost in thought for a moment. I noticed Gran had stopped drying the plate in her hand, but after a short while, she came back to herself and continued with my lecture, "And another thing, you and your rules. You have always been one to follow the rules your whole life. Why, even as a little girl, you would call Jason on every little infraction," and she chuckled at some old memory. "Honestly Sookie, your love for rules and order is why I think you decided to go into law. But do you know what? When it comes to love, love doesn't always follow the rules. You're a smart girl my dear, you'll see. Sometimes you have to throw the rules out the window and just follow your heart." Gran said, reaching across the sink and patting me on my arm.

We were silent for a long time while I let Gran's words sink in. "Gran, what if I'm not the one, well, the only one, who insists on following the rules?" I asked.

Gran gave me a great big grin and said, "Well, then you're going to have to be smart enough for the both of you."

The entire drive back to Shreveport, I turned Gran's words over in my head. I even thought back to what the A.P. told me too. Both women were wise and I knew I needed to consider their words and advice. Eric and I clearly had chemistry. I thought it was mutual, but when Eric rejected me, I was lost, not knowing what to think. Well, that's not exactly true, I knew what Eric said. He said he didn't want whatever we had to go anywhere. The A.P. told me that Eric was acting out of character. Heck even Bill told me Eric was a womanizer, and while his words don't necessarily hold any weight with me, they weren't inconsistent with the other rumors that I'd heard about Eric. And doesn't it take one to know one? So Bill would know, right? But whatever Eric's reputation, the A.P. told me not to be hard on Eric and that he was trying to look out for my best interests. At the time, I was so hurt by Eric's rejection that I didn't want to think about, but could that really be what Eric was doing? Trying to protect me and my reputation? Or his? Or both, I suppose? And then I had to consider what Gran said tonight. I don't know if what I feel for Eric is love exactly, but I feel something. And I do know that I was willing to give it a try. So, if I truly want to be with Eric, then not only was I going to have to put myself out there, I was going to have to convince him that whatever we could potentially have is worth breaking the rules for; that he should choose our relationship over my reputation, or even his.

Well, it's a good thing I'm a lawyer and am good at persuasion.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I have never been to Sweden and I'm making up the town's name in which our subsidiary company is based. So, all of you who are familiar with Sweden and its geography, I'd ask you to suspend reality for a little while.**

Chapter 18 – Journey

Since Eric and I lived in the same building, he came down to my apartment the next morning so that we could go to the airport together. Today's journey would require three planes: one from Shreveport to Atlanta; one from Atlanta to Stockholm; and one from Stockholm to Lufta, the small town in Northern Sweden where our client's factory was located. The first two planes were on large commercial airlines, but the last flight to Lufta would be on a small charter flight. Lufta was, in fact, so small that there weren't any decent hotel options, so we were going to stay at the home of the subsidiary's CEO, which I understood was actually a small estate.

During the entire journey, I turned over in my mind how I would persuade Eric to give us a chance, damn the consequences. I was so inexperienced with men that I wasn't exactly sure how to persuade him with my untested feminine wiles. My normal tact for persuasion would be to plead my case, but the last time I tried that, it didn't work out so well. I did take comfort in the fact that if I tried doing this again, at least this time we'd have some privacy where we could discuss our relationship without fear of broadcasting it to an entire courthouse of people. Otherwise, my options, at least as I saw it, were limited. At least I had some time … a day's worth of travel and two weeks of work, to get Eric to see things my way.

As far as the journey was concerned, we were traveling relatively light, with one checked bag and one carry on each. Pam had shipped our case file and other materials that we would need to conduct our document review and interviews to the factory so that they would be waiting for us when we arrived. Otherwise, international travel was a real adventure, at least it was for me being a novice and all. My guess was that our journey wasn't exactly typical, at least for most travelers. My first clue was when Eric managed to get us through the "expert traveler" lines, so getting through airport security was a breeze. He also has access to a Sky Lounge, so instead of camping out at the gate, we had a huge comfortable lounge with snacks and drinks and cushy chairs at our disposal. I couldn't help but feel out of place as I stood in the lounge with my mouth hanging open, taking it all in. Then, Eric told me that we were traveling first class. Apparently, the firm's policy is that when air travel is more than 4 hours long, you get to travel first class. I didn't notice too much of a difference between first class and coach on the first leg of our flight, but I sure did on that second flight: free champagne, in real glasses (not crappy plastic cups); tons of leg room, which Eric apparently needed since his legs were so long; a little goody bag with eye masks, socks, toothbrush and toothpaste; seats that reclined until they were almost completely flat…I was so struck by all of the luxuries that I couldn't help but contain how impressed I was. Eric laughed at me, but I didn't care one bit.

When we got to Stockholm, we had a car service take us to the small regional airport that our charter flight would be leaving from. Stepping out of the airport to get to the car was a rude awakening. I had never seen so much snow, or felt temperatures as bitterly cold, at home, even in the height of winter. This definitely wasn't Louisiana. I pulled my scarf up over my nose and tucked my face into it to protect it from the biting wind as I darted into the car, which was thankfully toasty. We drove for about half an hour or so and I practically had my face pressed against the window trying to take in the scenery. It was early evening, but already the sky was dark. Eric told me that winters this far north got dark quickly.

The little charter airport wasn't much to speak of. It was really nothing more than a small hangar and two short runways. Our car drove straight to our plane, which was being de-iced just outside the hangar. We sat in the car for about 15 minutes until the plane was ready, then the plane's door opened and we were allowed inside. The only people on this flight were me, Eric, a burly female flight attendant named Helga, and the pilot, who was a fat man with a very red, bulbous nose. Our pilot appeared to be in his late 50s or early 60s. He was jovial enough, but clearly spoke no English so my interaction with him was limited to smiles and a handshake. Luckily for us, Eric spoke Swedish. That would be something I'd have to ask him about later, I thought to myself. Since we were eager to get to our destination after a full day of travel, we quickly stowed our carry-on luggage in the small overhead compartments and took our seats. Shortly thereafter, the plane started to taxi down the runway.

Helga was a pleasant, stocky woman. At the beginning of the flight, she went through our safety instructions and since it was just the two of us, Eric and I paid close attention to her demonstration. After all, it would have been rude to ignore her. It was cold on the plane, so although we had both removed and stowed our heavy coats, I was thankful I was wearing layers of clothing and a jacket to keep me warm. Once we reached our cruising altitude, Helga brought us some coffee. When the coffee arrived, I stuffed my gloves in my jacket pocket so that I could use the liquid's heat to warm my hands. As we enjoyed our coffee, Eric and I spoke about the case, what to expect at the factory, what documents we would be reviewing, and who we would be interviewing. I also found out why Eric spoke Swedish: his parents are from Sweden. Eric told me that his parents moved to the US when he was a child, but he would often visit his family members that remained in Sweden. Despite the chill on the plane, the company and the coffee made the time pass quickly.

We were in the air for about an hour or so, when suddenly the plane experienced severe turbulence. The first time it happened, my eyes went wide with shock. Eric looked over at me and tried to reassure me. "Turbulence is completely normal. The plane is small, so we just feel it more," he consoled. But a moment later, we hit another pocket. Helga ran up from the back of the plane to the cockpit, and I had this sinking feeling in my stomach that this wasn't normal turbulence.

A few minutes later, Helga came out of the cockpit and her eyes were wide. When she met my gaze, something passed between us; something that required no words. It was then that I realized my instincts were correct: this was not normal turbulence. I reached over and instinctively grabbed Eric's hand, gripping it tightly. Just then, we hit another bout of turbulence and the overhead compartment above Eric's seat came open. A large bag of some sort fell out and hit Eric in the head. "Eric!" I shouted automatically. The bag hit him hard and left a long gash above his left eyebrow. Still holding my hand, he used his free hand to touch the gash. Eric's movements were slow and lethargic; it was as if he was moving through Jello. He slowly pulled his hand away from his head and simply stared in disbelief at his bloodied hand. Helga shouted something in Swedish and she ran over to Eric's seat and tried to close the overhead compartment. She quickly gave up the effort when it proved to be taking too much time. She then tried to sit into an empty plane seat and fasten her seatbelt; however, she never managed, at least, not before our plane plummeted out of the sky and crashed.

I'm not sure how much time had passed. I'm certain I must have blacked out. One minute, everything was moving so quickly, then so slowly, like it was a dream. But my next conscious moment was of the cold. My eyes slowly opened and I noticed I was sitting in my airplane seat, still belted in, in the snow. There was no plane, at least there was no discernible plane, around me; only plane parts and debris. I slowly took inventory of myself. I flexed my fingers and toes. They were stiff from the cold, but they moved. Miraculously, I didn't think anything was broken. My head ached, and I guess I must have hit it, but otherwise, I was unharmed. I unbelted myself from my seat and reached into my jacket pockets to pull my gloves on. When I stood, I took in the scene around me. I didn't see any of the plane's fuselage. I did see Helga's battered and bloodied body lying near me in the snow. The look on her face clearly told me she was dead, but I still went over to check anyway. Apparently, I was right. She wasn't able to get belted into an airplane seat after all. Either that or she had come out of it.

After taking in the wreckage I spun in a circle, suddenly remembering that I was not traveling alone. "Eric!" I started to shout, over and over again. My heart clenched tight and tears stung my eyes. An agonizing moment later, I heard some loud moaning coming from the other side of a snow bank. I trudged around it as quickly as I could, the snow coming almost to my knees, and I found Eric, still strapped into his airplane seat. His seat had fallen back, and he was lying on his back with his legs over the seat and above his head. "Eric!" I shouted in relief as I made my way to him. He was definitely out of it, but he was alive, which at that moment was my only concern. I grabbed his face between my hands and shouted his name again. This time, Eric seemed to struggle for consciousness and his eyes met mine, trying hard to focus. I checked him over, but other than the gash on his head, I could find no other visible injuries.

"Eric, we have to get out of here. We have to find shelter until someone comes to rescue us. Can you walk?" I silently pleaded "please say yes, please say yes," because I knew there was no way I could carry him.

"I… I think so…" he muttered. I helped him undo his seatbelt and he tumbled out onto his right side and into the snow. I struggled to get him to his feet. When I got him upright, Eric leaned on me heavily, with his arm over my shoulder. I grabbed his arm with my left hand, and used my right arm to support him at his waist. I looked around, wondering where on earth we could go for shelter. It was dark, but the moonlight shone on the snow, lighting the area around us. I could see we were in some sort of opening, possibly a meadow, and ahead of us lay some woods, dark and thick with trees.

"Let's head for the trees," I suggested, thinking maybe they would at least keep us from getting snowed on further, and the trees may protect us from the wind as well. Eric didn't respond, so I took his silence as his consent. With that decision made, we began to walk as best we could. A few times we stumbled. The snow lay thick all around and in many places it was hard to tell how deep it was; sometimes we stepped into deep grooves that were in our path. And when we got to the trees, sometimes we tripped on rocks hidden by the snow. But regardless, we kept moving. Moving felt good, felt productive. Once we got to the woods, moving forward just seemed to be our best and only game plan. The effort of moving through the snow caused my body heat to increase and I even started to sweat with the effort. Whenever we stopped to take inventory of where we were or to rest, I would start to feel chilled. I quickly decided that continuing to move was in both of our best interests. We walked and walked, for how long, I don't know, but we walked until we eventually found a cabin in the woods.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 - Sanctuary

I was so focused on the ground in front of us, that I practically tripped going up the stairs before I even noticed the cabin. When I took it in, it appeared to be abandoned, maybe for the winter. The house did not appear to be in disrepair though. On the plane, Eric told me many Swedes had summer homes in the north, and I guessed that this was such a house. I sat Eric on the steps, with his upper body leaning against the railing, while I tried to find out how to get into the house. After several minutes checking the door, windows, and anywhere someone might hide a key, I was at a loss. The house seemed locked up tight as a drum, so I did the only thing I could think of: I broke in. There was a small covered porch and someone had stacked some wood up against the front of the cabin, so I grabbed a piece of wood from the woodpile and I broke a window. I made sure I removed as much glass as I could from the window's opening and then I climbed through it. I was glad to be wearing as many layers as I was, because despite my care, my jacket still snagged on the broken bits of glass.

Inside, the cabin was cold and dark, but I was able to make my way to the front door and I unlocked it from the inside. I went over to Eric to bring him in and noticed that he was practically asleep on the porch. "Oh no you don't. Eric… Eric!" I yelled bringing him back to consciousness. "I need your help. I can't move you by myself. Come on, let's get inside," I encouraged. I felt like a mother chastising her child. Eric regained his senses a bit and stumbled to his feet. I supported his weight again and got him into the cabin.

The cabin was small, but even in the dark I could tell it was well cared for. The cabin opened into a decent-sized living room with a fireplace; on the left, there was a small eat in kitchen area; and to the right of the living room were two doors. I thought they were probably a bathroom and a bedroom. I didn't have time to do much exploring though. Now that I had found shelter, my next priority was to get us warm and dry. Having a purpose can be a wonderful thing, and it certainly took my mind off the situation I found myself in, so I set right to work.

I left the front door open when we came into the cabin in order to give us some light. Although the lighting was low, it would have to do. I set Eric down on the couch and looked him in the eye, "Stay awake," I commanded, and for good measure, I pinched him. That seemed to jolt him a bit and I saw his eyes focus on mine. When I was satisfied that he was relatively conscious I went over to the window that I had broke and pulled the curtains to. The only way to get the window covered up in the short term was for me to empty a nearby book shelf and move it in front of the broken window. Once that was done, I stood back to look at my handiwork. It wasn't a perfect seal and some cold air was still getting in, but it was the best I could do for now.

Then I went over to start a fire. There were a few logs next to the fireplace, in addition to the logs that were outside. After looking around for a bit, I managed to find some long matches on top of the mantle. There was also some newspaper on the coffee table in front of the fireplace, and with those tools, I started a fire. It was slow going at first, and my hands shook as I tried to light the kindling, but eventually it took. As the fire took hold, it gave us enough light and heat that I felt comfortable closing the front door, which was, up until then, our only other source of light. Once that was done I went into the two small rooms and found that I was correct – one was a bedroom and one was a bathroom. I tried the taps in the bathroom, but nothing came out. I assumed that the owners must have turned the water off for the season.

In the bedroom I found two blankets and a pillow, which I brought back into the living room. Now that we were inside the cabin, I noticed that the snow that had clung to our clothes was starting to melt with the heat from the fireplace. I could already feel the dampness on my skin underneath my many layers of clothing and I suspected it was probably no different for Eric. I quickly stripped off my clothes and stood there naked and shivering in the middle of the room. Normally, I would have probably felt shy or embarrassed, but when I checked on Eric, I noticed Eric had nodded off again. Given Eric's unconscious state and the life and death situation we were in, I just couldn't be bothered to care about something as insignificant as being naked. I stood over Eric, and smacked his cheeks several times, with each smack becoming increasingly harder until I started to get a reaction from him. "Eric, I need your help again. Listen, you can't go to sleep on me, not yet. We need to get you out of these wet clothes. Eric!" I yelled, "I need your help." After some more slaps to his face, Eric's eyes finally shot open.

"I'm up, I'm up," he said. Eric then focused on me and I watched his eyes drinking in my body. "Am I dreaming? Sookie, are you naked? Fuck, I must be dreaming," he said through a fog.

"Yep, sure thing Eric, you're dreaming, and right now, I need you naked. Come on; help me get you out of these clothes." If pretending this were some dream helped me get Eric out of his cold, wet clothes, then I'd take it. I guess I overplayed my hand though. Eric got a goofy grin on his face and then he quickly reached up, pulling me down on him and into a very heated kiss. Oh, good lord that man could kiss! After a brief but intense moment, I broke into a smile against his lips and tried to stifle a hysterical giggle. However, notwithstanding the unexpected kiss, I did get the reaction I was looking for: Eric was hurriedly taking off his wet clothes. As soon as I had him naked, I pulled out of his grasp. He petulantly whimpered and the sound made me warm inside. I grabbed our wet clothes and laid them near the fire, draping some of them over the kitchen chairs. The fire was finally good and roaring.

I knew that we needed each other's body heat to keep us warm and I also suspected that with Eric's gash on his head, he might have a concussion, so I needed to do whatever I could to keep him awake, at least for a while. It was just like that time Jason got a concussion during the Bon Temps football game against Springfield his senior year. I couldn't be sure if Eric's brain would swell or not and I feared that if he went to sleep, he would never wake up.

Eric was lying on his back. I grabbed the blankets and went over to him on the couch, covering him with my body and covering my body with the blankets. We simply lay there like that for a minute, but when I tilted my face up to look at Eric, I could tell he was leaving me again. So, I leaned up, placing my mouth next to his ear and I shouted "Eric!"

"Holy fuck Sookie!" he shouted, grabbing me tightly and almost jumping up off the couch. It was the most alert he had sounded since the crash.

"Eric, I need you to stay awake. I think you may have a concussion," I pleaded.

Eric looked at me and seemed to recall himself. "Are we naked?" he asked again. "Is this a dream?"

"Yes and no. Eric, please stay awake."

"I can think of something that will keep me awake," he said, wiggling his hips as his growing erection poked me in my stomach. If it wasn't for the bump on his head, I would have sworn he was drunk.

"As much as that would make me happy, that's not going to happen." How ironic was it that just a few short hours ago this is exactly what I had hoped would happen, sans plane crash that is. "I promise, you aren't dreaming. We … we were in a plane crash … people died … don't go to sleep… I just … I can't do this by myself," and without warning, I completely and totally broke down into tears, my sobs racking my body. Whether I was coming down from the adrenaline of the disaster, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I was shaking all over and the tears wouldn't stop. As my body heaved with my sobs, it seemed to sober Eric to our situation.

"Fuck, Sookie," he whispered softly. "I've got you. I'm here," and he kept repeating this over and over like some mantra, rubbing my shoulders, arms and even my hair with his hands the whole time. After a while, I came down from my bout of shock and my sobs subsided.

"Oh Eric, what are we going to do?" I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder I would lose the small amount of control I had just managed to exert over my emotions.

Eric shifted me slightly and sat up a little, taking in his surroundings. In hindsight, I guess this was really the first time he had done so while he was somewhat coherent. "Well, don't I feel like a real heel. It looks like you've done everything needed to keep us safe and sound," and with that affirmation, he gave me a tight hug pulling me into his chest. "Besides, it doesn't seem like I'm the only one with a head injury."

"What do you mean?" I asked confused.

"What I mean is you have this lump on the back of your head that I've been stroking for the last 15 minutes," he said, looking down at me. I reached my hand up from the blanket and touched the back of my head, "Ow," I said, noticing the lump for the first time. I pulled back my hand but I didn't see any blood. "There's no blood though, not like yours."

"Well, blood or no blood, that isn't an indication of how severe the bump is. You're right though, we both need to stay focused, for as long as we can to make sure we don't have serious head wounds."

"Even if we did, what on earth could we do out here," I asked despondently.

"Hey, hey, you got us this far, I'm not going to let you succumb to some funk now. I know what we can do to stay awake," he said.

"Ha, I told you we are not having sex," I snorted. "At least, not because of this," I said, lightly touching the mark marring Eric's beautiful face.

"Well, as much as I may be interested … and I'm sorry about that," he said, shifting his eyes down to the area of his erection, "it will go down soon, again, sorry. But I was thinking we could talk. You know. Let's do 20 questions, or I suppose, as many questions as it takes to keep us up for the next several hours. I will ask you one, and then you ask me."

"Actually, that sounds like a great idea," I said, laying my head onto his chest, snuggling close and breathing him in. "Shoot."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 –20 Questions

"So, were your parents hippies?" Eric asked.

"Really, that's your first question?" I said with a chuckle. "I have to say, I'm a little disappointed Eric, but to answer your question, yes they were. They were the peace loving, flowers in their hair, honest to goodness hippies. Why do you ask?" I was genuinely curious.

"Who else but hippies would name their daughter Sookie?" he asked with a smirk, and I pulled back, just a little, and punched him in his arm.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Like I haven't heard jokes or comments about my name before. Do you know how hard it was going to school, especially law school, with the name Sookie? The Honorable Sookie Stackhouse…. I've heard it all. You know, there was a guy in college that was named Fred Nooky. My friends used to tell me I should have married him and then I could be Sookie Nooky. I think if I did that though, then my career choices would have been somewhat limited to the exotic field," I said with a light laugh.

"Well, as much as I would have liked to meet that Sookie, I'm glad you didn't marry Fred," Eric said with a waggle of his brows. The man could be simply incorrigible, even in our situation.

"Fine, my turn now. Hmm, what's up with you and Pam?" The oddness of their relationship was something I had been curious about for quite some time.

"Pam is my most trusted friend. She knows me better than anyone probably and we have a mutual respect for each other."

"But why is that? I've seen you guys in public and in private. The way you two interact in private is… I don't know. I'm generally a good read of people and it just seems like there is more to you two than you're letting on." Eric took a deep breath, seemingly pondering his answer. After holding his breath for a few seconds, he slowly let it out.

"When Pam and I first met, she was in a bad place and I helped her out. I wish I could tell you more than that Sookie, but I can't. It isn't my story to share," and I felt that that was the end of our discussion on that topic.

"Well, I respect what you're saying, but since I didn't really get an answer to my question, then I want another turn," I pouted.

"Bullshit Sookie. I answered your question, it's my turn now," Eric said with a smile.

"Objection Mr. Northman. Your answer was non-responsive." I gave him my most pointed, lawyer look.

"Oh, so our little game of 20 questions is going to be more like cross-examination, is it? Well, I've had much more experience at this than you have," Eric said, challenging.

"So, what are you saying Mr. Northman, you think you can best me? I'm game, but if I ask you a question, then you have to give me the god's honest truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you god."

"Likewise Ms. Stackhouse, likewise."

"Fine. Why do you all cover up for Bill?"

"I do _not_ cover up for Bill. Let's get that straight. The managing partners do that just fine on their own…. I swear, sometimes I think I should just set up my own shop," Eric said, his words dripping with his exasperation. After composing himself, he continued, "Sookie, I never wanted you to have to go through that with him. Please believe me when I tell you that I hoped beyond hope that it would be different for you and when I saw that it wasn't, I did what I could to get you out of that situation. You don't have to work with him anymore, so hopefully you'll never have to be alone with him either. But if he ever so much as tries anything with you again, then please tell me immediately." I could tell by the passionate look in Eric's eyes that he was completely sincere. I knew he had helped me out of a bad situation, and I was grateful. Leaning up, and coincidentally, dragging my naked body against Eric's, I gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "What is that for?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

"Thank you," I whispered. Seeing the firelight bathe Eric in its warmth was a beautiful image, and one I wanted to remember for a long time to come.

"My turn," Eric said, pulling me from my reverie. "Why did you want to become a lawyer?"

Boy, oh boy. Of all the questions, he had to go there, huh. "Well, uh, I don't know. It seemed like a good career option at the time. Flexible…" I trailed off.

"Seriously Sookie, you're going to bullshit me, after all we've been through? I think I deserve the truth… and nothing but the truth." I let out a big sigh. This wasn't something that I was especially prepared to talk about. Not now, nor ever really, but I did agree with Eric, that he deserved the truth. I suppose he could sense my hesitation though. "Sookie, hey, hey, hey," he said, putting his hand under my chin, and pulling my face to his. "Look at me," he said softly, and I did. "You can trust me, you know that right?" And he was right. I did trust him.

I took a great big breath, my eyes welled with tears that threatened to spill. On the exhale, I said, "There are two reasons … the first is that when I was seven years old I was molested by my great uncle. My Gran's brother. It was just after my parents died in a freak flash flood and I'd gone to live with my Gran. I was so ashamed. Well, Gran found out and she called the police on him. She actually prosecuted her brother, all for me. I had to testify of course, which was hard. He went to jail, and he would have been stuck in there for a long time, but he died there. Inmates apparently don't take too kindly to child molesters. Anyway, I met this really nice lady prosecutor who handled my case. She was so nice to me. The judge was too. I think just seeing how the system worked, I was intrigued." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Sookie, I had no idea. I'm so sorry," Eric said.

"Eric, it was a long time ago," I said dismissively, but I could tell my nonchalance didn't fool Eric. He pulled me into another hug and I hugged him back. "You know, this is the first time I've talked about it since I testified that day in court."

"You didn't go to therapy? Work with a counselor?"

"Well, I did, but I refused to talk about it. Since I wasn't acting out or anything, there wasn't really anything for them to do…. I still can't believe I told you about it. Maybe it's because of what we've been through together. I don't know, I feel safe with you. You know, when Bill would harass me, I almost had panic attacks. He reminded me so much of how Uncle Bartlett used to be."

We stayed silent for a long while, and then Eric said, "What was the other reason you decided to become a lawyer?"

"I grew up in a small town. Women there don't have much opportunity. It's either get married to some guy who works at the lumber yard, wait tables, live in a trailer…. We were already poor and I knew I didn't want to stay that way, living hand to mouth. I also knew that my best hope for breaking out of that cycle was to go to school and get an education. As you may know, I can be opinionated and I like to argue, so the law seemed like a good fit for me. And it was. I did well in law school. I'd like to think I'm doing well in practice," I said with a bit of a grin.

"Yes my dear Sookie, yes you are doing quite well in practice," he said with a smile.

"My turn. You may or may not know this, but you have quite the reputation with the ladies Mr. Northman. So, do tell, is it justified?" I said with a wink, trying to get back our light-hearted banter from earlier.

"I have dated many beautiful, sometimes even famous, women. If that gives me some sort of reputation, then so be it. But I am not dating anyone right now."

"And why is that Mr. Northman? Did you exhaust the pool of beautiful women in Shreveport?" I teased.

"Actually, no. There is one beautiful, smart, and incredibly stubborn woman in Shreveport that I would love to date." I'm sure I blushed from head to toe. And with that opening, I decided to press my cause.

"Would I by chance know this woman?"

"You might."

"Well, why haven't you gone out with her?"

"She's unattainable."

"Are you sure? Have you asked her?"

"It has nothing to do with choice, our situation requires it."

"Is that the only reason why you haven't pursued her? Your situation?"

"Well, yes, but it is reason enough. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the career she so desperately wants and has worked so hard to achieve. She's talented and I want people to see that."

_Okay_, I thought to myself, _here it goes_. "Eric, I was sexually abused as a child, and was then focused on rising above my poverty until recently. Because of those two things, I have never had a boyfriend, or even went on a date that wasn't a group thing. The furthest I have ever gotten with a man, at least voluntarily, was that night with you in my apartment. Afterwards, when you wrote it off as a mistake, I was completely heartbroken. I understand your reasons, but it still hurt me, very much." As I said this, I felt Eric go rigid beneath me. I watched him closely and saw the firelight cast shadows across his tensed jaw. "If you can't tell, I like you, a lot. I know that you're a partner and I'm an associate, but I can't help how I feel. And I can't help but feel that us surviving that crash today was a little bit of divine intervention. We're being given another chance, and I don't intend on wasting it by biding my time. I want you, and I don't want to wait. Not for when I'm a partner, or when I'm more established in my career, or even tomorrow. I'm not sure, but I think that you feel the same." Although I'm certain the question was on my face, Eric's face was locked down tight and gave nothing away. "So, what I'm asking you is this: will you give us a chance, here, now?" I couldn't believe that I had finally gotten to say my piece and I felt both relieved and anxious. Now, everything rested in Eric's hands. The air was thick with my anticipation.

"Sookie, I …" he hesitated.

"What do _you_ want, Eric? Without the mores and roles and labels and bullshit. It's just you and me laying here in this abandoned cabin in the woods. I want to know what it is you want. If you don't want me, then I can't say I'll happily accept it, but I will try."

Eric stared into my face for a long moment before finding the words. "I want you Sookie, I do. But not at the cost of your professional reputation."

"I don't want to risk my reputation either, but all my life I've followed my head instead of my heart. Just this once, I want to follow my heart more than anything I've ever wanted."

I stared at Eric's face trying to see if I could read him and find out what he would decide for us. I had already opened up so much to him; I felt that his rejection may just break my heart and my spirit, but I knew it would be unfair to him to let him know that, so I did the only thing I could do. I waited. "Sookie, if we do this, I couldn't live with myself if it somehow stymied your career or ruined your reputation. So, if we are going to give us a try, then it needs to remain a secret. Can you do that? Agree to be mine, but not tell a soul about it."

I paused to consider his offer. Internally, I was torn. I was thrilled that Eric was finally open to giving us a chance, but I was not happy with the idea that we'd be keeping our relationship a secret. Still, I considered this a step in the right direction and after thinking over his offer for a little while, I made up my mind. "Eric, you have yourself a deal," I said, unable to contain my smile.

"You drive a hard bargain Ms. Stackhouse. I do think I may have underestimated your skills of persuasion."

"Indeed Mr. Northman. However, I'm sure us being naked may have had some sway. Speaking of 'hard' bargains, I thought you said that thing would go down," I said, nodding down to his still present erection.

"Um, Sookie, you're laying on me naked. This is like every fantasy I've had since we've met. What can I say? I'm only human."

**A/N: I do have a very good friend from law school whose first name is Cherry, like the fruit. She used to date a guy with the last name of Bottoms, and so if she had married him, she would have been…you guessed it, Cherry Bottoms. Good stripper name, not so good for a lawyer though. **

**Thanks so much to tabularasa88 for her wonderful suggestions! I'm so lucky to have her talented eyes review this chapter!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with my little story. I appreciate all of your reviews, follows and favorites. There was a lot of frustration by some over Eric's request to keep his relationship with Sookie a secret. All I will say is, what's a story without a little drama? Now, for some warm fuzzies.**

Chapter 21 – Love Shack

Eric and I spent the night and early morning hours playing our little game of "twenty" questions. It seemed we never ran out of things to ask each other or talk about. Our questions were about things as serious as my abuse, the firm and its hierarchy, and its cover up of Bill's abusive behavior, to things as trivial as my first pet (which was a beagle that I had aptly named Huntin' Dog), Eric's high school records for swimming, which he still holds, and our favorite foods. Although I didn't think it was possible, what with me lying on top of a very handsome, hunky, naked guy who just agreed to be my boyfriend, as corny as that sounds, eventually sleep found us both. I'm not sure how long I slept for, but I do know it was good and deep.

I was just on the edge of sleeping and waking, where my brain was slowly coming back to reality but my body lay completely inert. I could hear the crackle of the fire and feel its warmth on my face; I could feel the soft couch beneath my body, and the warm covers over me; and I could hear the sound of pots and pans and other things clanking in the distance, as well as the opening and shutting of cabinets and drawers. As I took in these sounds and sensations, I also began to remember where I was and why I was here … the plane crash. I slowly opened my eyes, but I remain perfectly still, taking in the scene in before me. What I saw would have shocked the hell out of me yesterday, but today, it just seemed to fit within this surreal world I was living in. Eric was crouched down low, digging through a low kitchen cabinet. That wasn't what was so weird. What was weird was that, as big as he is, Eric was doing this wearing a ridiculously short black silk kimono robe with red roses on it, and it was tied tightly around him. His back was to me, but I could tell that the robe barely covered his ass. Eric stood and placed several canned goods on the kitchen counter, which was already covered with various cans and packages. It seemed Eric had been busy.

"Good morning," I said, startling him.

Eric jumped nearly a foot and quickly turned to face me, "Fuck Sookie, you scared the shit out of me."

I giggled and his face broke into a smile. "To what do I owe your lovely attire?" I asked as sweet as pie.

"You like," Eric said, tugging at the bottom of the robe and waggling his brows and giving me his most salacious look, which is pretty damn salacious. I swear that man could look sexy wearing… well… a short, women's kimono robe. "Our clothes are still damp. I was exploring the cabin and found a couple of robes. Yours is at the end of the couch," he nodded, indicating the robe.

I sat up and picked up the soft, white, terry cloth robe that Eric had set out for me. It wasn't much bigger than what he was wearing, but it was much more gender neutral. "You left me this and you're wearing the silk kimono robe?" I asked with a raised brow.

"I wanted you to have the warmer robe. Besides, as soon as I'm done scrounging here, I'm joining you back on the couch," he said with a leer. "Tea and Spam?" he asked, switching topics.

"You found food!" I screamed, barely able to contain my excitement. I was both thirsty and hungry. The last thing I drank was coffee on the plane just before the crash, and the last thing I ate was a sandwich on the long flight over the Atlantic, which seemed a lot longer than just a day ago.

"Yes my dear Sookie," Eric answered with a smile, enjoying my enthusiasm over food. "I found some cans of soup, Pot O' Noodles, Spam, canned salmon, tea bags… I hope you like your tea black by the way. There isn't any creamer. Actually, I couldn't find any perishables in the house, so I think this is a summer home that the owner has shut up for the winter. I used some snow from the porch and heated us some water in a pan over the fire. I was just taking stock of our supplies. I think we have enough food for maybe two weeks, three if we ration it. We'll probably be found by rescuers by then," Eric trailed off, seemingly deep in thought.

"So, what's for breakfast, or dinner, or whatever meal this is?" I asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"How about some potato soup and Spam?"

"Sounds like a five star meal to me right now." I sat up on the couch, and grabbed the robe, ready to put it on, but I hesitated. Looking up at Eric, I said "Turn around so I can put this on."

"Sookie, I've seen you naked, surely you aren't embarrassed?"

I blushed from head to toe. "Well, when you saw me naked, we were under some extenuating circumstances. What can I say, I'm shy," I shrugged.

"Well, until we're saved, I would say our circumstances are still extenuating and, believe me, you have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, kindly turn around please."

"As you wish Ms. Stackhouse," Eric sighed, finally turning around. With his back to me, I could almost see the curve of his butt cheeks peek out from beneath his ridiculously short robe and I sighed. He really was a beautiful man.

"Okay, it's safe for you to turn around now," I said after securing the robe tightly around me.

He turned around with a pout, and walked over to stand in front me. "How's your head?" he asked, reaching behind my head, and touching my bump.

"I'll survive. What about yours?" I asked, reaching up and gingerly touching the bump on his forehead. He winced slightly but allowed me to touch him.

"I'll survive," he whispered. Then Eric slowly bent into my hand and closed his eyes, seeming to relish my touch. Eric looked content, and a content Eric is simply beautiful. I felt so moved by him and his reaction to my contact, before I realized it, I was standing up on my tippy toes and pressing my lips into his. Eric's eyes shot open in surprise, and then just as quickly, his arms were around my waist pulling me into his body. He closed his eyes again and began to kiss me deeply. I tightly wrapped my arms around his waist, stroking his muscular back through the thin silk fabric. My earlier hungers, however, couldn't be ignored and just as my stomach growled loudly, I swayed a bit. Eric's grip tightened around my waist and he pulled away slightly, his face marred by his look of concern. "I'm so sorry," he said looking down at me. "We need to get you fed."

Eric sat me down on the couch, pulled my feet long ways, and covered me with a blanket. Then he got to work heating water, making tea, opening cans and cooking our little meal. The scene was homey and domestic and it made me smile. I started to get up and help him out, but Eric shot me a quick look, causing me to freeze in my tracks. "My stubborn Sookie. Let me take of you," he said and despite my independent streak, I wanted to let him do just that. So I settled back down into the couch and covers. He resumed his preparations and I watched him work.

As he was fixing our meal, I asked him, "Aren't you cold. I mean, you're walking around here in next to nothing. Hell, I feel cold just lookin' 'atcha," I involuntarily shivered.

"I'm used to the cold. Whether it is my Swedish heritage, or all those winter swim meets as a kid, I just don't feel the cold as much as others."

I know our supplies were limited, but it seemed to me that Eric knew what he was doing when it came to the kitchen, and I enjoyed watching him. We continued to make our small talk while he fixed our food. Eric informed me that the cabin's facilities weren't working, since the water had been turned off, so he set out a bedpan of sorts in the restroom and told me we would have to take sponge baths to get clean. I took the opportunity to take some heated water into the restroom to make use of our make-shift facilities.

When I came out of the bathroom, relieved and clean, Eric had laid out our little meal on the coffee table. I felt like Pavlov's dogs, and the sight and smell of Eric's efforts quickly had my mouth watering. I wasted no time getting situated on the couch and under the covers and I was soon digging into our meal. I know it was just Spam and potato soup, but at that moment it was the best meal of my life and despite my intense hunger, I made every effort to savor each bite. After my hunger was satiated, Eric and I sat together on the couch sipping our tea. I felt warm on the inside and out. Despite our circumstances, I had to admit that I too was content. In fact, at that moment I realized that I could care less whether we were ever rescued. It was enough having Eric here with me all to myself.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 - You are the Wind Beneath my Wings

Eric and I must have fallen asleep together on the couch … again. _Sigh_… how blissful. As I awaken, my eyes flutter open. Sure enough, I'm lying on the couch snuggled in tight to … Uncle Bartlett? What the fuck! As my eyes adjust, I look over at the person next to me and I become paralyzed with fear. It's Uncle Bartlett and he's staring down at me with that look he used to get just before he would do things to me. Bad things. Dirty things. Things that I'm not supposed to talk about. A coldness creeps over me and it's bone deep. He's stroking my hair, just like he used to do when he would tell me that we had a special relationship … a secret relationship ... that he loved me like no one else ever could or would … and that I was his. My mind and body completely lock down tight in my terror. I feel as if I am that seven year old girl again. _I can't fight him. He's bigger than me, stronger. I know I should relax. It doesn't hurt as bad when I relax. If I'm just quiet and let him do it, it will be over with soon…._

"Sookie, you're so special…" he coos, like I'm some kind of fucking puppy. My eyes shut tight and I recoil from his touch. "Shhh, just let me hold you," he pleads. Only it's not a plea. It's a command; and I'm just a child. A powerless little girl.

"You're dead," I whisper, barely above the sound of my breath. As if saying the words will make it stop. Make him stop.

"Death couldn't keep me from you princess. You're my girl," he says, as a sickly sweet smile cracks across the creviced planes of his face.

Unable to control the emotions welling within me, tears begin to stream down my cheeks and I open my eyes to free them from their lidded prison. It's a silent sob. It's better this way. If I cry, or cry out, he'll be too rough. He'll hurt me worse than he usually does. He will put his hand over my mouth and if my nose gets stuffy from crying, I won't be able to breathe…. Or he'll spank me. He sometimes likes it when he has to do that….

As I look into the eyes of my abuser, a strange (or even stranger) thing happens. Uncle Bartlett's face starts to melt and morph until he's… Bill Compton.

"Sookeh. You're mine," Bill drawls.

"No!" I shout and shoot up off the couch, tears streaming down my face. I clutch my robe around me tight and shiver with fright and cold.

At the same time, Eric sits up bolt straight on the couch, "Sookie! What's wrong? Are you okay?" his eyes searching my face. And the look in his eyes is a torrent of emotions - fear, surprise, shock, concern.

Like a cornered animal, I pull my robe in tighter around me and my eyes dart around the cabin. The fire has gone out. It's cold. So, very cold. A biting, frigid wind has found its way into the cabin through the window that I broke the day before yesterday, and it's whipping its way around the bookshelf and into the room. And then it all comes back to me. The plane crash; walking in the woods; finding the cabin; finding shelter, safety and food… Eric. There is no Uncle Bartlett. No Bill Compton. Just me and Eric.

"Oh my god," I exhale and I fall to the floor, collapsing into a heap, unable to keep my body from racking with shakes that are from both the cold and my fear.

"Sookie!" Eric shouts as he falls down on the floor in front of me. He holds my biceps in his hands; hands that could easily circle the circumference of my arms. His grip is firm but gentle and his eyes search mine for the answer to his unspoken question… am I okay.

"Oh Eric," I sob and I collapse into him. Eric pulls me tightly into his chest, not stroking, but just holding me firmly in place. In the comfort and safety of his arms, I allow myself to give him the little strength that my body has left, allowing him to support my weight.

And I cry.

And cry.

And cry, for what seems like hours, although it probably wasn't nearly as long as it felt. After a while, my sobs fade into strangled chokes, which fade into whimpers, until finally they subside altogether. As I sit there silently in Eric's embrace, I notice that my legs are cramping from the unnatural position I've been holding. I pull back a bit to look Eric in his face, which is etched with his concern. "I'm sorry," my voice cracked and hoarse from crying. "It was a nightmare… just a nightmare." It's almost as if I'm still trying to convince myself that that was all it was. "I was a little girl … and Uncle Bartlett was there … touching me … saying things to me … things he used to say… and then he was Bill." And I have to stop speaking because I can feel a lump building in my throat, one that will most certainly unleash another torrent of sobs if I don't stop it now.

"Sookie, Sookie, it's okay. I'm here. You're safe with me," Eric consoled. He pressed my head into his chest with one hand and rubbed my back in long even, soothing strokes with the other.

"I know. I don't know why I dreamed that. I haven't had a nightmare about Uncle Bartlett like that in years. I haven't even spoken about him or my abuse out loud since the trial… well, not until I told you about him the other night. Wait. Maybe that's it? Maybe that's why I had my nightmare?" I ask, looking to Eric to confirm that the reason for my nightmare was as simple as this. That I'm not crazy or irrevocably fucked up from the abuse I suffered. Looking for validation; that I'm normal. That this dream wasn't any different than when I fall asleep with the TV on and start dreaming about the last show I saw.

"Yes," he said in a firm reassuring voice. I didn't know if he meant it or if he thought it was what I needed to hear, but I was thankful all the same. My shoulders sagged under the weight of his response and I rested my head on his chest again.

After a moment, Eric said "Sookie, you're freezing. Here, get on the couch and under the blankets. I'll get the fire started and I'll see what I can do about that window." Eric lifted me up and once he had me esconced on the couch, tucked in to his satisfaction, he set to work. He cleaned away the embers from the fireplace and got another fire going. I tried to find joy in the fact that he was doing this in his kimono robe, but even that couldn't shake the residual horror of my nightmare. When Eric moved onto the window he said "I think a blizzard is coming. The snow fall is really picking up out there. I can hardly see the forest right now. Maybe we'll be snowed in," he said with a smile, obviously trying to lighten my mood and I could tell he was disappointed when it didn't get him the desired effect. Eric then checked our clothes. "Hmmm. They're dry, but pretty cold. Let's let the fire warm them up a bit before we put them back on." Once all of his tasks were complete, Eric sat on the couch next to me, but not close enough to touch me. He was giving me space.

While he was tending to our needs, I had mentally regrouped and with a big breath I said,"Thank you. I'm so sorry for giving you such a fright. I don't know what came over me." I bowed my head in shame and embarrassment, unable to move my eyes from my hands, which were firmly planted in my lap.

"You don't have anything to apologize for Sookie. You've been through a great ordeal." Eric said, reaching out to pat my hand. He hesitated, hovering over my hand for just a second before he allowed himself to touch me. He was handling me like I was a delicate piece of china … easily breakable.

I raised my lowered eyes to his face, my lashes thick and wet with tears. I could hardly bear the pity that I saw in his eyes, which were staring back at me. "God I'm so fucked up. Maybe I should have talked to that therapist after all," I strained, trying to choke back the sobs that threatened to release again.

Eric's jaw tensed and his pity gave way to anger. "If he wasn't already dead, I swear I would kill him for you," Eric seethed. "He didn't suffer nearly enough for hurting this beautiful, wonderful, intelligent woman sitting here in front of me." Eric then schooled his emotions and shifted back to his conciliatory tone. "If you want to talk to someone when we get home, then I'll help you. I have contacts. But for now, I'm here. I'll listen if you want to talk about it."

"Thank you Eric. I think I'm done reliving my abuse for now," I said lightly, in a poor attempt at levity.

"Tell me what you need. Let me help you." Eric then rearranged us so that he was on the couch with his back resting on the arm, and my back pressing into his chest. After a moment, I relaxed into his embrace. It's hard not to relax when enveloped by Eric's warmth and compassion. He then bent his face to my left temple and kissed me there; his kiss lingering for a few seconds before he released my head.

"Talk to me Eric. About anything … except for that. I just want to hear your voice."

"Okay," he began. "I hope the firm doesn't mind the fact that we're not billing for the days we've been stranded here."

I sat up a little, moving away from his chest. "You can't be serious!" I said as I turned to look at him, and the look on his face was pure mischief. Despite my recent melt down, I laughed. I laughed a real, honest to goodness laugh. And with that laugh, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders and, just like that, we were back in our comfortable, happy bubble again. I settled back into Eric's embrace and he regaled me with stories about wonderful, humorous and inconsequential things.

"Did I ever tell you that I once posed semi-nude in a calendar while I was in college? I used the money to help pay tuition. I was Mr. January. I think I was supposed to be a Viking. There was a bear skin throw and everything. I think I still have a copy of it in storage somewhere. I'm sure I could get you an autographed copy," he teased.

…

"Did you know that last week I caught Alcide taking notes in the men's room while Compton was taking a shit?" He had a good chuckle when I told him exactly how long Alcide's and Bill's little routine had been going on.

…

"Pam would die if I told you this, but she secretly worships Bette Midler. _Beaches _is her all-time favorite movie and she cries every time she watches it."

…

"I took your advice and tried a yoga class and it completely and totally kicked my ass. Of course, I was one of only three guys there and the other two must have come straight from the circus, or Cirque du Soleil, or wherever the hell super flexible guys congregate outside of yoga."

…

And on and on he went until my responses went from full sentences, to one word responses, to mumbles, to little head nods, until I fell into a sound and peaceful sleep. And I even dreamed, but this time my dreams were of a gorgeous, blond haired, blue-eyed Viking, who was naked and doing tree pose, while singing "You are the Wind Beneath My Wings."

**A/N: Sorry if this was a little more intense than what you're used to. Just thought we needed to get this out there on the table and deal with it. And a big ole thanks to tabularasa88 for all of her invaluable input!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Hello. Anybody there? [tap, tap, tap] Is this thing on? Okay, I'm so sorry for the delay in getting you all another chapter and in responding to reviews, and I have lots of excuses from work, to family, to getting caught up reading other people's wonderful fanfics. I won't bore you with the details. Instead, I will just give you this bit of citrus and hope you will forgive me.**

**WARNING: NSFW.**

**And a super shout out to tabularasa88, who is an all-around awesome person. She has been kind enough to proof my chapter, offer direction, and even prod me along when life started to get in the way of writing. Hugs and Thanks!**

Chapter 23 – Rude Awakening

I lost track of time. How long had Eric and I been in this cabin? A few days at least, right? Maybe almost a week? Was anyone looking for us? Did Gran, Jason, Pam and everyone we knew back think we were dead? I didn't know and, to some extent, I didn't care.

From the confines of our little sanctuary, it always seemed to be either dark outside, or white, what with the brief blizzard that pounded away at our refuge. Eric and I had created quite a little bubble of peace for ourselves in our cozy little cabin in the woods. And odd as it may seem, after the first couple of days, we even developed a domestic routine – wake up, tend to the fire, wash up, boil water, fix meals, cuddle on the couch, talk, rinse, repeat. We were quite domestic and despite the circumstances, or maybe because of them, it was bliss.

Eric and I had grown very close during our stay and finding sleep every night in his arms was heaven. I didn't think I'd ever be able to sleep alone anymore, not without Eric's warm, protective embrace.

At some point, I'm sad to say that we donned clothes again. Once they dried out enough, we put them back on because there wasn't anything warmer to wear. However, at least with the fire, we didn't need to wear our big winter coats inside; our layers were enough.

Not that we had had sex, because we hadn't, at least, not yet. I knew that we didn't have any protection with us. Since I wasn't sexually active, I wasn't on the pill and in any event, we walked to the cabin with literally the clothes on our back and the contents of our pockets. I knew from laying our wet clothes out so many nights ago in front of the fire that condoms were not among the items in Eric's pockets. Damn shame. The only other option available to us would be the rhythm method, and we all know what they call people who practice the rhythm method – parents. But despite the fact that we hadn't shared a physical intimacy, Eric and I shared a closeness and a growing intimacy built on friendship, respect, trust, and … let's be honest, a fair amount lust.

And here it was. A typical Friday night (or whatever day of the week it was) and Eric and I were lying on the couch, talking about our lives and what we were going to do when we got back home. I was going to make Gran make me all my favorite foods – fried chicken, fried okra, gumbo, corn bread, and apple pie, or even old Mrs. Bellefleur's chocolate cake recipe, which was a Bon Temps treasure – and I was going to completely gorge myself. Honestly, I've had enough of canned sardines to last a lifetime and didn't care if I never saw another one ever again. Eric was looking forward to drinking a very tall glass of his very old bottle of Glenfidditch. What can I say? The man likes his single malt scotch.

I must have dozed off, when I was awakened by a series of feather light kisses to my forehead, eyes, nose, and lips. I absorbed the sensation of warm lips pressed delicately to my face, but by the time Eric had reached my mouth, my eyes fluttered open and were met by his ice blue eyes, which, despite their cool color, contained an unspoken passion.

I was almost afraid to say anything, afraid that if I did, I would break the magic and intimacy contained in this one precious moment. Instead, I let my body talk for me, and pressed myself firmly into Eric's body, my lips pressed firmly to his mouth, and I released a breathy moan. I twined my right hand in his hair, running my fingers through it and tugging slightly, and my left hand reached up to firmly grip Eric's right shoulder and squeeze the muscle, holding him in place. My actions must have pleased Eric, because his tongue pressed against my lips, deepening our kiss. The world stopped, if it had ever been going these many days. We were lost in our kiss. It went on forever, both of us enjoying each other and the pleasure we were giving to each other. There was no rush, no frantic passion; just slow, languid kisses and caresses. We were in no hurry and bided our time.

After a while, Eric pulled back from our kiss and stared into my eyes. The firelight backlit his beautiful face and his hair glowed like a halo around his head. "Sookie, I want to kiss you. May I?" he asked.

"But … you are kissing me," I said confused, and then his meaning dawned on me. He wanted to kiss me … there. "Oh," I said in a barely audible, breathy whisper.

"May I?" he asked again, seeking my permission. He maintained his small distance from my face. He wasn't pushing me by kissing or nuzzling me, but never broke our gaze, searching my eyes for my answer. I had a feeling he was asking because he knew my history, my past abuse, and was unsure how I would react if he moved forward. I was both sad to be reminded of my past, but was moved that he would be so careful of my reaction.

Looking into his face, his anticipation was almost palpable. "Okay," I said. Eric's eyes twinkled in response to my answer and he kissed me passionately, but still with a deliberate slowness.

Eric moved from my lips, to my cheek, to my jaw and down to my neck, sucking and nibbling as he went. His hands slowly moved to the hem of my top, gripping both the sweater and the long sleeve t-shirt I had on underneath. In one smooth move, he removed both of my shirts. I had lifted up slightly to aid Eric's efforts and no sooner had I laid back down, wearing nothing but my bra and my pants, when Eric continued his slow assault down my body. He kissed the top of my chest, palming my breasts with his hands over my bra, kneading them into submission. Goosebumps broke out across my skin, both in response to Eric's ministrations and the cold. My nipples pebbled and Eric rolled them with his fingers through the fabric of my bra.

I could feel a heaviness growing below and thought I would explode simply from his touch alone. He was like a master pianist and I was his instrument. Eventually, Eric's had deftly reached behind me, unfastening my bra. He sat back, taking my bra with him, leaving me exposed. My instinct was to cover myself, but before I could, Eric said, "Don't," and the warm but commanding tone of his voice and the heated look in his eyes had me frozen. "You are so beautiful. Perfection personified." After his compliment, my body flushed with heat and I didn't feel the cold anymore.

Eric kissed my breasts, lavishing each with his attentions. "Eric!" I cried out in pleasure, feeling myself building closer. He heeded my unspoken warning and continued his languid journey down my body. When he reached the top of my pants, he made quick work of the button and slowly pulled my pants off. Eric fiddled with the waist of my black cotton panties before sliding them down my body as well, leaving me totally naked, except for my thick wool socks. I hope he wasn't planning on removing those. And luckily he didn't. Instead he sat back on his haunches and his eyes devoured me. "Vacker," Eric whispered and although I didn't know what he meant, the context clues pretty much told me it wasn't a bad thing. If anything, it was hot.

Eric resumed kissing the tops of my thighs. He nuzzled my womanhood and I could have sworn I heard him inhale, followed by a soft sigh. I tried to relax, but it was almost impossible. I had Eric Northman, Mr. January, bad ass litigator, and overall fuck-hot man, going down on me, Sookie Stackhouse, a first year lawyer from bum-fuck Louisiana. My mind was reeling, but all coherent thought left me the moment he kissed me … down there. His kisses were much like the others – soft, slow, wet – but also very different. I had never experienced this before and once I got accustomed to the feel of him, of his mouth on my most intimate of areas, I allowed myself to get lost in the sensations.

I could feel myself building again, like butterflies were in my stomach, breaking free of their cocoons and were ready to take flight. Eric continued his ministrations, but then added one finger, then two, playing me like the virtuoso that he is. He continued his dual assault and without preamble or warning, my orgasm tore through my body. I screamed out "Eric" and could feel warm fluids leaving my body, Eric lapping up my juices. At first, I was horrified, but Eric's hungry moans quickly cued me in to the fact that he was not at all displeased with my body's reactions to him and his many skills.

As I slowly came down from my high, Eric rested the side of his head on my stomach and pulled my hips tight to his chest, holding me. My hands immediately went to his head, stroking his locks. "Eric… I … that was incredible," I stammered.

Eric slowly turned his face to mine. "Lover, you are magnificent. I could spend the rest of my life in this cabin, worshipping you like this, consuming you every day. You are nothing short of resplendent when you come."

I started to blush from his compliments, but how weird is that given all that we had just shared. After a short moment, I said, "Hey, I want to kiss you too."

Realization dawned on his face and Eric said, "Really Sookie? You don't have to."

"No, really. I want to. C'mere," I said, curling up my index finger to get him to come to me. When Eric's face was only inches from my own, I gripped his sweater at the chest and dipping my eyes low, unable to meet his gaze, I said, "I've never done this before, so I'm sure it won't be good, but I would still like to try, if you're willing."

Eric placed his long, strong fingers underneath my chin and when my eyes met his I was taken aback. The look in his eyes was not at all what I expected; they were stormy. Eric said in a clipped tone, "It will be perfect, because you are perfect. Do not underestimate yourself. I won't allow it."

And with that little boost to my confidence, I smiled, causing him to do the same. We swapped positions on the couch and I set him back. Eric spared me the effort and removed his own shirt. I am embarrassed to say that despite our time together and the fact that I have seen him naked, and have been pressed up against him naked, I still audibly gasped at his beauty. He was a magnificent man, and he was mine.

I decided I would follow a similar path set by Eric, starting with soft kisses to his lips, moving to his stubbled cheeks, and proceeding to his jaw. As I kissed Eric's neck, I could feel the ropes of muscles underneath grow taut under my touch. "Sookie," Eric breathed, and I knew he could feel my mouth turn up in a smile, pleased that I could cause him pleasure.

I had to remind myself not to get too cocky … Eric was enough of that for both of us … and I proceeded to kiss his chest. His chest was like chiseled marble, he was so muscular. My lips could hardly find purchase so I used my teeth and nibbled at the muscle. Eric moaned a low deep moan and I decided I would try biting his nipples a little. When I did, Eric's clothed hips pressed firmly into my still naked body and I was becoming aroused again. I continued my assault until Eric warned, "Sookie, don't make me embarrass myself." I smiled reflexively, unable to contain the joy of knowing that I could have this effect on him.

Eric's abs were as taut as his chest as I kissed him there and I began to draw my nails down the sides of his waist. Eric growled and arched off the couch, but I could tell he was making every effort to control himself. I fumbled with the button on his jeans for a moment, but eventually got it undone. Eric lifted his hips and I slid the jeans down his toned thighs, revealing himself, naked and clearly ready for me.

If these past few days had shown me anything, it was that Eric was a big guy. Still I steeled my resolve and began to slowly drag my tongue over the tip of his penis, circling the head, eventually taking him into my mouth as far as he would go. I began to slowly work Eric with my mouth and hands, taking my time. We had nowhere to go, nowhere to be. Just us, here, now, enjoying each other's bodies as much as we could. I briefly got lost in the pleasure I was giving Eric, loving the feel of him in my mouth and hand.

When Eric let out a deep moan, I looked up at him and his eyes were boring into me, watching me give him pleasure. His wanton look made me pick up my pace. I moved my free hand up to his nipple and gave it a pinch, rolling it between my fingers. At that point, Eric threw his head back onto the armrest and shouted, "Sookie, I am so close!" He placed his hands on my head, but didn't grip me or force me into a rhythm. He just rested his hands on my head, allowing him to feel the pace of my mouth and hands on him in a different way. "Sookie, now!" Eric shouted, and I was certain he was giving me warning in case I didn't want to swallow him. I hadn't done this before and I wasn't sure what I would do at the outset, but in that moment, I knew I wanted him. All of him. Just like he had consumed me.

After we had each found our releases a few more times, we lay on the couch, sated and spent. We didn't need any words. We just lay under the covers, me snuggled on Eric's chest with his chin resting on my head, stroking each other where we had exposed skin. I had never felt so happy, content and relaxed, until there was a loud knock on the door followed by someone yelling in a thick Swedish accent: "Mr. Northman, Ms. Stackhouse, are you in there? We are here to rescue you."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Big shout out and much love to tabularasa88 who keeps me on task and is kind enough to read my work. All errors are mine. **

Chapter 24 - Reality

I was soundly asleep, snuggled in next to Eric, but something seemed off, wrong somehow. Eric was too soft and lacked the warmth his body seemed to radiate. I squeezed him closer but it was no use. I opened my eyes and found myself alone, clutching my pillows, in my own bed, back in my apartment in Shreveport. That's when I realized I wasn't with Eric in our cozy cabin in the woods anymore. We'd been rescued.

…

_"Mr. Northman, Ms. Stackhouse, are you in there? We are here to rescue you."_

_At first, Eric and I froze__, eyes wide in surprise and locked on each other. And then there was a frenzy of activity as we both hurriedly dressed, setting ourselves to rights, and Eric shouted out that we'd be there in just a minute. The rescuers must have been stunned into compliance as they hesitated. In fact, we'd be barely made ourselves decent, although still far from completely dressed, when they must have realized the absurdity of delaying their rescue due to our request before they finally burst into the cabin. A team of four rescuers were suddenly standing in our foyer, but stopped short. Then there were those awkward moments as they took in the scene before them and we stared back at them as they'd burst our happy bubble. Eric and I stood there, looking like a couple of guilty teenagers. Our clothes were askew, hair disheveled, and we were panting like we'd just run a marathon. _

_After a minute or so, the lead rescuer shook his head slightly and asked us again "Mr. Northman, Ms. Stackhouse?" _

"_Yes, that's us," Eric said, stepping forward. _

"_We're here to rescue you," the lead rescuer said, but then the other three guys smiled widely and one of them said something in Swedish. I didn't know what he said, but Eric shot him a withering look and responded back angrily in Swedish of his own. After they realized Eric was fluent, there were no more snide remarks and the rescuers set to work, checking us over, asking us if we were injured, taking vitals, getting us wrapped in warm blankets and gear and then we were off. Our fire hadn't even died down before we left our sanctuary. _

…

I pulled myself out of bed and padded to the kitchen. I filled a glass with cool water and stood there at the sink while I drank it down. Four weeks. It had been four weeks since we'd been rescued. I wasn't sure what I expected my relationship with Eric to be like when we returned to Shreveport, but none of that mattered because he was still in Sweden. He and the partners decided that, given our week out of pocket, I should return home and handle Eric's other cases while he was away. He stayed behind in Sweden to do the document review and interviews we had originally planned on doing together, hence the delay.

…

_ Eric and I stood in my hospital room in Stockholm as I awaited my discharge. "What do you mean, I'm going back to Shreveport and you're staying here?" I asked incredulously._

_ "Exactly that Sookie. The managing partners and I need you back in Shreveport. Due to our situation, things are behind at the office. Pam was able to secure extensions where needed, but I need to you to go back to the office and handle my other cases. There is motion practice that needs to be tended to and other things that Pam can bring you up to speed on."_

_ "But this case is our case to work on together," I pleaded._

_ "And I'm the partner. I staff my cases as I need them staffed and right now, I need you Shreveport. This case isn't my only case Sookie, you know that," Eric said firmly._

_ "So what, you're dismissing me?" I pouted. _

_Eric stepped forward and stroked my arms with his hands. "Sookie, I'm sorry, but once I finish up here, I'll come back and bring you up to speed on the case. I still need you for motion practice, trial prep and at trial; it's just that right now, I need you back in Louisiana more than I do here," he said softly. I tried to harden my heart to him and his logic. I wasn't feeling logical at that moment. I was a woman who was being forced to leave her man, and her heart, behind in a foreign country for god knows how long._

"_So, when will that be? Two weeks still?" I asked. The thought of two weeks away from Eric after the closeness we shared these past several days was like a knife in my heart. The mere thought of the separation was painful._

"_Probably longer than that since I'm doing the discovery alone. Maybe four weeks," he said after taking a moment to contemplate the timing._

_I roughly shook Eric's hands from my arms and stepped back away from him. "Four weeks! Are you fucking kidding me?"_

"_Damn it Sookie, do you think I have a choice! This is what the works demands. You're smart, you know this," and after a long moment, he added, "I'll miss you too." As Eric said it, the look in his eyes about broke my heart. However, I wasn't ready to forgive him for leaving me – leaving us – just yet. _

_I turned my back to him so that he couldn't see my tears, which had started to spill from eyes, and I could barely squeak out, "Then just go." Eric reached out and squeezed my hand, and then he did as I'd ask and left. _

That was the last time we spoke. Sure we emailed and relayed messages through Pam. I had to keep him up apprised of the status of his cases, but we never discussed our relationship, in part I assumed because we were keeping it a secret and he didn't want there to be any incriminating emails or voice mail messages. Still, I was aching without him.

I set my glass back in the sink and looked at the clock on the microwave. 3:00 a.m. I'd been running non-stop during the day, trying to keep up with Eric's caseload, but although I had come home exhausted every night, I always woke up in the middle of the night like this … missing Eric. I gripped my tank top where my heart had resided, that is, before Eric stole it. I rubbed at the hole in my heart, trying to ease the ache, but it was no good.

I thought that coming home would have felt good, busy, but good. And upon my return to Shreveport, the weeks sped by. First, there was Gran and Jason. They were, of course, elated to find out I was okay after my ordeal, and they even met me at the airport too. Gran insisted that I stay with her for a couple of days so that she could "see to me properly," and "fatten me up" because she thought I had lost weight while I was gone. I'm sure that the real reason was just to reassure herself that I was fine. Jason, of course, was Jason. He was glad to share in the bounty of meals that Gran cooked up for me. But of course, I could tell that my absence had affected him as well. He wasn't nearly as obnoxious as he usually is with me. Amelia was also relieved to hear I was okay too. Gran had called to let her know that my plane had crashed and they had been in daily contact since then. Amelia promised me a visit as soon as she was able.

…

_ "Sookie, thank god! It sounds so good to hear your voice. If only I could set my eyes on you. Quick, let's Facetime," Amelia said._

_ "Amelia, I can't Facetime. I'm calling you from Gran's. I'm going to stay here with her for a couple of days. Plus, my iPhone was lost in the crash. I have to get a new one from work."_

_ "Fine missy, but I am coming to see you at my first break," she scolded. Amelia could sometimes be like the mom I barely remembered. "So, how are you, really?" she pressed. I could never hide anything from Amelia._

_ "Really, I'm … I don't know. I know I should be happy that I'm alive, but I just sort of feel lost. Is it weird? I mean, I was only gone for a week, right?"_

_ "Honey, there is a week, and then there is a week where your plane crashes, people die, and you end up with a partner holed up in a cabin in a blizzard in the middle of Sweden during the winter. I think you're entitled to feel a little lost. So tell me, you gonna be okay, or do I need to move some work around and come down in a day or so?"_

_ "No, you don't need to do that. Plus, I think I'm going to be busy at work for the next few weeks since I was out and am now handling Eric's caseload until he returns."_

_ "Mmhm. Well, I want you to call me every day this week so I can see how you're doing. And as soon as you get a new iPhone or near a computer, you better Facetime me or Skype. You hear? I'm not playing."_

_ "Yes mam," I mocked._

_ "Make fun all you like. I won't feel better until I see you. I think I can come down mid-February. We can go dancing. You know that will cheer you up," and I smiled. Amelia knows me so well._

_ "You promise?" I asked. _

_ "You bet."_

_ "I better go and stop Gran before she cooks everything in the pantry. See you soon Ames."_

_ "You better believe it."_

Second, there was the office. I recall Pam accosting me as soon as I got into the office that first day back.

_Pam entered my office and shut the door. She crossed the small space and embraced me tightly. "My god I thought you were both dead," she whispered. Then, she pulled back, straightened her suit jacket, and said, "Don't you ever do that again."_

_After reassuring her that both me, and Eric, were fine, she caught on pretty quick to the change in our relationship. "Something's different between you two… Oh my god, did Eric finally get his head out of his ass and tell you how he feels about you!" she exclaimed._

"_Well…" I knew we were supposed to keep things a secret, but Pam knew us too well, especially Eric. I couldn't imagine her not finding out, notwithstanding how Eric and I had parted ways._

"_I knew it!"_

"_Pam, Eric and I, we're going to try, but he made me swear that we keep things a secret. Maybe he thinks our relationship won't go anywhere, in which case my reputation will still be intact … I don't know, but please don't breathe a word of this to anyone, especially Eric," I begged._

"_Of course he suggested you keep things quiet. He's so misguided. Anyway, I'll keep your little secret, for now, but when he gets back I do intend on giving him a piece of my mind."_

"_Pam, please, don't. Before I came home, we didn't leave things on the best of terms. I'm hoping we'll work through things, but I can't stand having things be harder on him than necessary. Will you please lay off him, at least for a while until things return to normal here?"_

_With a big sigh, Pam said, "Fine Sookie, but only for you. Only he could be a big enough of a douche to think that a secret office romance is a good idea. I promise that I'll let things get back to normal when he returns, but as soon as they do, I _will_ give him a piece of my mind. Sookie, you don't deserve to be kept a secret. And you can tell him I told you that. Hell, I'll tell him myself."_

"_Thank you Pam."_

I headed back to bed, no doubt to lie awake staring at my ceiling … and Eric's floor… for a couple of hours until it was a decent hour to rise. This had been my routine upon my return to Shreveport, one that I could only hope would end once Eric returned home and we could finally talk to each other, face to face. Of course, lying there, unable to sleep, only caused me to think and rethink how Eric and I had parted ways. I kept replaying different scenarios in my head, things that he or I could have done or said differently. Sometimes there would be no words. Eric would kiss me passionately and we'd just do it there on the hospital bed. Other times he would beg me to stay and to never leave him. Still other times, I'd tell him that I was sorry. I was being selfish. And that I loved him. And that is when I realized that I really did love him, with all of my heart and soul.

In order to get my mind off those thoughts, which always made me feel worse about myself for allowing us to part as we did, I would start running through the next day in my head. What my schedule was like, what I had to do, the meetings I had to attend. Of course, that reminded me that I'd inevitably see Alcide. He'd been shaken up by my plane crash and never let a day, well hell, a few hours go by during the work day without stopping by my office to see me. He'd also been getting me to go with him to Merlotte's most nights as well. If I wasn't working late, I didn't have any reason to say no.

…

_"Knock knock stranger," Alcide said, standing in the doorway of my office._

_ "Hey to you too stranger," I replied with a smile._

_ Alcide came into my office, walked right behind my desk, lifted me out of my chair and wrapped me into a giant bear hug. "Girl, you scared the shit out of me Sookie. Don't you ever do that again, you hear?" he said, giving me a little shake at the end._

_ "Well, yeah it scared me too, okay." _

_ "You look good. You weren't hurt any, were you?"_

_ "No, I'm fine. I spent a few days with Gran, who saw it as her mission to fatten me up."_

_ "You aren't fat. You're just right." Alcide said appreciatively._

_ "Well, thanks so much for saying." Desperate for a change of topic, I asked, "What have I missed? What's been going on in the office?" _

_ "You haven't missed anything. All that's been going on is you and Eric being gone. Everyone here was on pins and needles; first when you didn't turn up at the client's when you were supposed to, then when they couldn't find the plane. Then they found the wreckage … and the bodies," he said, and I blinked rapidly willing the tears to not flow. It wasn't the first time I'd shed tears over Helga and our pilot and I was afraid if I started again, I wouldn't be able to stop. "You okay?"_

_ "Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. Go on."_

_ "Well then everyday that went by without any news that you all had been found was another day we lost a little hope. It's amazing anything got done here this past week or so. We were all worried about you. Especially me." Alcide had a look like he could kiss me, so I thought it best to get us back onto safer topics._

_ "Well, we're fine. Besides, I can see this turning into the start of some bad lawyer joke, about how not even a plane crash in Sweden in the middle of winter can kill two attorneys, and what kind of deal with the devil we must have made."_

_ "Hey, I think you could use a drink. Want to go to Merlotte's after work?"_

_ "Well, I have a lot of catching up to do," I hemmed and hawed._

_ "One drink, and maybe a little bite to eat. We'll go at 5:30 and you can come back up and do some more work when we're done."_

_ When I thought about it, I didn't have any other plans, and Eric and I were supposed to be keeping our relationship a secret, "Okay. Deal." _

…

God I missed Eric. As I lie in my bed, I rolled over to look at the LED display on my alarm clock. Seriously, only 45 minutes had passed? I remember being able to lie in Eric's arms, and talking. Nothing more than that, and they were some of the happiest moments of my life. I also remembered my dream in Sweden, about Bill, and I shuddered at recalling our reunion early in the morning on my first day back in the office.

…

_ I thought I could get in really early and actually get some work done before the parade of people that I knew would be stopping by my office checking on me, or more like, talking to me so that they could go and gossip about me later. It was inevitable, so I thought I might as well go in early to work and get it all over with. Bill was my first visitor._

_ "Sookie, you're alive and well. I just want you to know that my every thought was with you when you were lost. Words can't tell you how happy I am to see you here and in one piece," he said with a slow lingering look that went from my head, to toe, back up to my head again, but not before a long delay at my breasts. Some things it seems never change._

_ "Yes Bill, I'm fine. Thank you for enquiring."_

_ "Are you fine Sookie? I mean, I heard you were holed up with Eric for several days and that he had a concussion. I know that Eric, even under the best of the conditions can be … persuasive. I can't imagine what he must have been like when he wasn't in his right mind."_

_ I chuckled a little remembering my Eric. The one where he was a little out of it, and cute as hell. Bill gave me an odd look and I realized I needed to put my poker face back on. "It was fine Bill. He was fine. A perfect gentleman, even under the worse of conditions that we were forced to endure," and I thought about how I wouldn't mind enduring those cabin conditions everyday for the rest of my life._

_ "Well, know that you were and are always in my thoughts Sookie. If there is anything that I can do to help you … adjust … please don't hesitate to ask."_

_ Just then Sophie-Anne appeared in my door behind Bill. "Bill, you must give Sookie some room to breathe. It isn't even 7:30am and here you are darkening the girl's door," she chastised._

_ "I was just telling Sookie how concerned we were," he replied._

_ "Yes, I'm sure you were. Well let's give her some space. She's been out for a week and has had an ordeal," Sophie-Anne said with a quick wink in my direction as she ushered Bill on._

_ "Sookie, I'm sure we'll catch up later. You just get yourself settled in here and if you need some additional help, let me know and I can let Andre help you and Pam out on Eric's matters."_

_ "Thanks Sophie-Anne," I said genuinely. And with that, she left._

…

As I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, it was all too easy to think of the last moments that Eric and I shared in our little cabin. How easily he made me scream out his name. Of course, I couldn't help but think about how I had pleased him too. The feel of him on my lips made me reach up to stroke my lips with my fingers, recalling how soft his skin was, how he tasted. My hands found my way into my pajama bottoms and I thought that, next to the real thing, there was no better way to spend the next hour than pretending it was Eric's hands and mouth on me, instead of my own hands.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for sticking with my little story. Big love and shout out to tabularasa88 for her awesomeness, and for beta-ing my little fantasy. **

Chapter 25 - Homecoming

I woke with unwarranted optimistic hope.

Pam had been reminding me for the last week that Eric arrives back today and, despite my best efforts at self-control, my heart lifted a little whenever she mentioned it. She also made it a point to make sure I knew his flight would be landing at 1pm and that he would be coming straight into the office. I was anxious about seeing him again, but I was probably more anxious about how he would react upon seeing me. Would we pick up where we left off, with that unhappy parting in Stockholm, or would things return to something like what we had in the cabin? I am not naïve enough to think that we could ever have exactly what we had in the cabin again, at least not with us keeping our relationship a secret, but I could live with something close to that. Or, I suppose a third option would be things returning to the way they were before we left for Sweden – polite professionalism. I didn't think I could bear it if that were to happen. I certainly didn't want Eric reconsidering our decision to give us a shot. I knew I hadn't, and I was hoping our time apart hadn't caused him to do so.

I could barely drink my coffee let alone eat anything for breakfast. My stomach was in knots. So, I got myself ready and to the office earlier than anyone else. I busied myself by trying to get some work done, but today it seemed all I could think about was Eric.

"Today's the day," Pam sing-songed as she entered my office. I pulled myself away from my computer screen and noticed she was wearing a very cute pink and grey hounds tooth skirt suit with impossibly tall pink peep toe pumps. How she ever managed such footwear was beyond me.

"Yeah, I know, end of the month, so I guess I need to get you my time sheets by the end of the day, huh?" I said with a deadpanned expression.

"What?! …. Oh, I see what you did there," Pam chastised and I smiled.

"Pam, you've only been telling me every day for the last week that Eric would be back in Shreveport today at 1:00pm and coming straight into the office. If I know you, you've been tracking his flight over the Atlantic and are keenly aware of any delays or changes in his flight schedule. And I also know you've arranged for a car service to pick him up from the airport. Finally, knowing you, you've timed his estimated arrival to the office at, let me guess, 2:10pm?" Pam missed Eric almost as much as I did.

"At 2:08, thank you very much. You should know me better than to round up on arrival times," she huffed. Then Pam's expression took on a much more sympathetic look. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, I suppose. I'll let you know at 2:08," I tried for a smile, but the stress and strain made it look more like a grimace I'm sure.

"I'll try to keep the vultures away when he gets in so that you two can have a little time to … catch up."

I dropped my voice and said, "Pam, there won't be any of that kind of 'catching up' happening at the office. And remember what I said about keeping this a secret."

Pam immediately closed the door and then said, "I promised I'd let things get back to normal, and then I'm going to give Eric a piece of my mind. And if he isn't careful, in addition to a piece of my mind, he is going to get my foot up his ass. That is, if his gigantic head can get out of it for two seconds. And besides, who knows how long it will take for things to get back to normal? Maybe an hour and things will seem right as rain," Pam said as she inspected her nails.

"Pam," I warned.

"Fine. I'll give him at least a day."

I smiled because I knew Pam would hold true to her word. She and Eric just had that kind of a relationship… which reminded me…. "Pam, I never asked you about how you and Eric got to have the kind of relationship you do. Don't get me wrong, I admire how close and frank you two can be with each other, but I can tell your relationship is deeper than you let on. I asked Eric about it once at the cabin, but all he would say was that when you two met you were in a bad place and that if I wanted to know more, then I'd have to ask you. So, I guess I'm asking. What's up with you two?"

Pam took the seat in front of me and her earlier mischievous look faded away as her eyes filled with tears. After a long moment's hesitation, Pam said "Sookie, I'm only telling you this because we're friends. I haven't told anyone about this, but I met Eric while I was at the Center for Women." Pam reached across my desk to grab a tissue and blotted just below her eyes to keep her mascara from running.

"The shelter for abused women?" I asked. I've heard about the Center for Women and the good work they do there. It is a well known residential facility for women who are escaping abusive relationships.

"The one and same," Pam said, trying to put a little lightness into her voice, but failing miserably. Her lip quivered as her eyes took on a distant look of remembrance. "I was 19 when I ran away from home so that I could be with my boyfriend, my much older boyfriend, Appius. I thought he loved me and at first he did everything right. He showered me with attention and gifts, told me things no boy or man ever had… that I was beautiful and special. He was my first and he was my world. That is, until I expressed an opinion … on anything … or had an independent thought that didn't happen to coincide with his own. After a while, he took to beating me on a regular basis to 'help me get things through my thick skull,'" she said, using air quotes. Pam sniffled a little and took a moment to compose herself before she continued her story.

"He kept me shut away in his home, away from my parents, my family, my friends. He cut me off from them and like a fool, I let him. I felt worthless, like only he could love me… that I deserved the beatings because I wasn't good enough for him and didn't try hard enough to please him. I would remember early on in our relationship, when he was kind, and I thought that he could be that way again if I just didn't make him mad or screw things up anymore. Anyway, it was our nosy next door neighbor, Mrs. Fortenberry, who actually saved me. She saw the results of Appius's abuse on my body and spirit. One day, after he had left for work, she came over and after a lot of cajoling, she convinced me to leave him. I checked into the Center for Women that day." Pam paused in her story and took a deep breath.

"This is where Eric comes in," she said with a smile. "Eric was a law student fulfilling his pro bono requirement at the Center. My case was assigned to him and he was my legal knight in shining Armani," she smirked. "Well, okay, maybe not Armani, at least not at that point in his life. Maybe knight in shining Dillard's? Anyway, he helped me file my emergency protective order and then my permanent restraining order against Appius, which the judge granted. And just one week later, when Appius violated the restraining order, Eric worked on my case and Appius was sent to jail. Eric and I remained close and when he started practicing law, I was just getting out of the Center and looking for work. He took me on as his secretary."

I am simply floored by her story. "Pam, I had no idea," I said, not knowing how to respond to this information.

"Well, it isn't exactly something I tell anybody, and Eric respects my privacy. It is a part of my life that I'm not exactly proud of, and it is in the past, which is where I like to keep it. But you asked and given that we're friends, and given your relationship with Eric, I think you deserve to know. Despite Eric's reputation, he is a good guy Sookie. And while he may be … experienced … when it comes to women, I haven't seen him act the way he does when he's with you. I haven't seen him be as protective of anyone like he is with you, at least not since when I was his client."

"Bill…" I whisper.

"Yes."

After taking a moment to absorb Pam's story, I have to ask, "Whatever happened to Appius?"

"Well, he got out of jail after about three months. Thanks to the state's victim notification system, I got an automated call to let me know Appius had been released, so I got a gun. And when he came to my house to punish me for sending him to jail, I shot him dead. Luckily, it was a clear case of self-defense. Eric was able to show the state prosecutor the voluminous record of my past abuse, the protection orders, and the prior violation. Plus, the fact that Appius came to my home, in violation of the order, again, and that he also had a gun, well, the prosecutor didn't charge me. It was clear cut." Pam's voice had taken an icy edge and the tears that previously rimmed her eyes were gone.

"Pam, I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you for sharing that with me."

"I'm glad you know Sookie. I love Eric. I owe him my life. More than anything, I want him to be happy. I think he is happy with you, if he can just stop being an idiot about it. But I want you to know that you're special too. It's no secret that I think keeping your relationship with Eric a secret is a mistake. You deserve more than that. I don't want you to doubt your worth like I used to. But I promise, I will give him time, and then I will tell him what I think."

"Thanks Pam," I said as I got up from my desk and crossed over to her, pulled her from the chair and embraced her tightly.

…

I managed to do some work, but by lunch I was all but pacing my office. I didn't know how I was going to make it through the next two hours. I couldn't sit around waiting. I needed to be doing something, so I went out for a walk. It was a chilly February day, but the cold helped me keep my focus. I walked for two hours, stopping periodically to check emails on my phone or take calls, but I just kept moving. At 2:00, I headed back to the office. I didn't want to get there too soon or I'd be in the same position I was earlier … waiting.

At 2:20, I stepped off the elevator. I could hear the distant sound of voices, almost like a gaggle of geese. The closer I got to my office, the louder the voices became, until I heard one that I hadn't heard in a month. I turned the corner and there was a group of people just outside of Eric's office and he was in the center. Sophie Ann was there, and so was Chow, Bill, Lorena, Alcide, everyone really, and Eric was standing in the middle of them all. Someone had brought out the champagne and glasses were being filled. I ducked into my office to take off my coat, gloves and hat and Pam popped in.

"Where have you been?"

"Walking, I couldn't stand to wait anymore."

"Well, the vultures are here and there is no way I can break him free from his little impromptu welcome home party."

"That's fine. I'm coming out. Remember," I said with a pointed look.

As soon as I came out, Alcide sidled up to me and handed me a glass of champagne. I caught Eric's eye and we just looked at each other. Alcide said something to me, but I didn't hear him. It was as if the din of voices was turned to mute, all I could hear was my breathing and heart beat, both of which had quickened. I was so focused on taking in Eric's appearance. He looked good, as always. Healthy, handsome, maybe a little tired, which was understandable since he had just gotten off an international flight. He started to make his way to me, but then Sophie raised her glass and said, "The prodigal son returns. We thought we'd lost you, or maybe that you found some Swedish bikini model and decided you would never return to us, but we're so glad you did! Welcome home Eric. Cheers!" "Cheers!" went up around the room along with the clinking of glasses and lots of well wishes.

The little party dragged on for about an hour before Eric had finally been able to make his way to me. I couldn't tear my eyes from him as he approached. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," I replied.

"I …" we both started to say over each other and then we awkwardly laughed at our faux pas. Eric gestured to me and I said, "How are you?"

"Better now," he said, his eyes boring into mine so hard that I thought I could feel his gaze all the way to the back of my skull. "And you?" he asked.

"Better now," I repeated and we shared a small smile.

"There you are!" Sophie Ann said loudly as she came over, interrupting us. Her appearance seemed to remind us of where we were and we both diverted our eyes from each other. "Eric, I hate to take you away from your little party, but I want to meet with you to get a complete debriefing on your case and other matters. I have a video conference with Philippe and Russell tomorrow morning and I want to give them a full report on you and your cases now that you're back."

"Sure Sophie Ann," Eric answered, and when she didn't move, he asked, "Now?"

"Well, yes," she said and the firmness in her voice brooked no argument.

"Fine. Sookie, I'll stop by later and I'll bring you up to speed on our case when I'm done giving Sophie Ann my report."

"Okay," I said and I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face.

And with that, they left. I stayed in my office until about 7:00pm. When Eric hadn't returned to his office by then, I reluctantly went home. I had my dinner, checked emails, watched the late news, but there still was no word from Eric, so I took myself off to bed. I was sadder now than I had been this entire past month and my sleep was light and fitful, which was probably a good thing, or I might not have heard Eric ring my doorbell at almost midnight.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I can't believe I'm getting up another chapter within a few days, but since it is ready, I thought I would go ahead and post it. Fair warning, this is NOT safe for work. Also, in case anyone has issues about oral contraception, I apologize for that as well. I want to thank you all for your wonderful reviews, faves and follows. And a special thank you to tabularasa88 for reading my stuff and helping me make it at least as good as I can write it. I don't do this for a living, so this is still all new to me, but I love sharing my little fantasies here with you all. So glad to know I'm not alone in my Eric-obsession. **

Chapter 26 - Hi

I shot out of bed and rushed to the door. Once I got there, I stopped, smoothed my hair as much as I could, put my hand on the door knob, and took a deep breath. Then I slowly opened the door. Standing before me was the object of my affection, the man of my fantasies, and he was here and in the flesh. I stood gaping at him and although he definitely looked exhausted from both his travels and what amounted to a full day of work, he was still breathtaking. It was only after his eyes raked over my body that I realized I was wearing nothing but my tight-fitting LSU law school t-shirt and a pair of black cotton panties.

"Hi. Wanna come in?" I asked, my voice a little scratchy from just waking up.

Apparently, that was all the invitation Eric needed before he pushed his way through my door. Before I even had any time to take a step back and let him in, he was pressed up against me and I was in his arms. His mouth latched onto mine in a hungry, ferocious and sloppy kiss and he used his foot to kick my door shut. Eric's tongue plumbed my mouth and his hands roamed over my back and down to my backside. Gripping my panty-clad bottom, he let out a feral growl in my mouth that vibrated throughout my body, causing my ovaries to twinge. I tried to pull back a bit, not that I wasn't greatly enjoying what we were doing, but we had hardly spoken at all in the past month, none of which was personal, and there was so much I wanted to say to him – that I was sorry about being such a child when we parted in Stockholm, that I was sorry I hadn't called him, that I missed him…. "Eric… I," I barely managed to say, but he simply pressed me against the wall and growled "No," as his mouth moved to my jaw and neck, kissing, sucking and licking his way down. Who am I to argue with a senior partner?

I'm not sure how long we stayed there in my foyer kissing and groping each other, but at some point, Eric decided to change venues. He lifted me up by my ass and my legs immediately latched around his waist, with my shins locking me in place. With me attached to Eric like some kind of horny monkey, he moved us into my living room. I'm not sure if he thought the bedroom was too far away or if he was feeling nostalgic given all of the fond memories we made on that couch in our cabin in Sweden, but he headed towards my couch. Once there, he simply sat down with me still straddling him. I unlocked my legs and buried my knees into the couch cushions near his hips. I felt powerful in this position, having him beneath me as I loomed over him. My arms were resting on the back of my couch and my hands were clutching fistfuls of his hair, pulling his face into mine so that I could consume him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thin panties and I couldn't help but grind myself into his lap to increase our friction. God I missed him. He lifted me slightly away from his body as he reached into his back pocket and I whimpered at the inches separating us. When he set me back in place, I saw that he had a condom in his hand. My eyes went wide and that's when the shit got real. I was really going to do this. I was going to have sex with Eric Northman.

My heart was racing and I felt a flush of heat spread through me, making me slightly lightheaded. The heat was so intense that I could feel a little sheen of sweat break out across the bridge of my nose and forehead. My body was strung tight like a piano wire and so far, all we had done was kiss and paw each other. My nipples were hard as pebbles and I pressed them into his chest as I leaned forward., placing my mouth next to his ear, and I heavily breathed, "I've been on the pill since I got back from Sweden."

Now it was Eric's turn for his eyes to widen as the gravity of what I said sunk in and he dropped the condom on the couch. His hands grabbed my ass as he ground his hips up into my core and kissed me deeply to show his appreciation for my foresight and planning. Eric continued to grind his erection into me and I thought I was going to come simply from him dry fucking me. However great it felt, I knew I wanted more. "Naked, now," I ordered and in the short amount of time it had taken me to pull away to make my demand he had managed to lift my shirt off of me, leaving me in nothing but my panties. I mimicked the movement and swiftly removed his sweater. I groped his chest, pinching his nipples as I kissed and slid my way down his body. When I was on my knees on the floor in front of him, I went to work on removing his pants and boxers. Eric lifted his hips to allow me to slide them down his legs, and I took his shoes and socks with them. I sat up on my knees and I stroked his solid thighs as I admired his beautiful body. My eyes drifted up to his. Our eyes stayed locked as I placed my thumbs into the waist of my panties and slid them off, lifting them over one knee at a time.

Eric leaned forward and took my face in his hands. "You are so fucking beautiful," he said, punctuating it with a kiss to my nose. "I've missed you so much… your touch… your body… your mouth… your smile… your laugh… your kisses… your sense of humor… your wit…" and with each statement, I was rewarded with a kiss. Then Eric went from sweet to downright fucking hot in no time flat. "This past month without you has been pure torture. Now that we're finally together again, I am going to fuck you Sookie Stackhouse. I am going to fuck you right here on this couch, and then on the floor, in your bed, in your shower, and on every other surface in this apartment. I need you," he whispered and my intelligent response was, "Oh."

Eric pulled me up from the floor and settled me back straddling his lap. Mr. Happy was knocking on my door and with as wet as I was, if I slightly shifted my hips he'd be in the front door. We kissed and stroked each other some more and I threw back my head and arched my back as Eric took one of my nipples in his mouth. With that arch, I lined myself up and slowly impaled myself on him. And the feeling was … wow. I have never felt so full, so complete in all of my life. We just stayed there joined like that for a moment as I got used to the feel of him inside me. "Fuck me," Eric gritted and then, placing his hands on my hips, he started to slowly guide me up and down on his cock. "As you wish," I smirked as I grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands next to his head. Eric allowed me full control.

I had never really done it before, but given my abusive past, I felt that this time, my first time, I wanted – no needed – to be in control. I don't know why, but it was important to me. Sure, I knew that I might be shit at sex if left to my own devices, but people have been doing it forever, often without a lot of guidance. I figured I'd just do what I felt came naturally and if it wasn't all that great (although I couldn't imagine that being the case with Eric), then Eric can always teach me more later. So, I tried different speeds and angles and just did what felt right. After a while, I found a groove and a rhythm that worked for me, and if Eric's words and moans of encouragement were any indication, it was working for him too. He started bucking his hips up on my down stroke and before I knew it, I could feel myself building to a delicious orgasm. I decided to just let myself go and I went over the edge shouting out Eric's name. As I was riding out my release, I felt Eric's cock seemingly get bigger and flex, as if he was going to burst out of skin … and then he did.

We lay there on the couch, with Eric still sheathed within me, his head tilted back and resting on the back of the couch, and me collapsed on him with my face resting in the crook of his neck. We stayed that way until coherent thought and the ability to speak returned to us. I tilted my face into Eric's neck and gave him a soft kiss on his pulse point and he whispered, "Perfect."

I sat up, blushing from head to toe, and said "Hi."

Eric looked at me and with a huge grin he said, "Hi," right back.

I sighed and said, "Let me get us a towel," and reluctantly, I removed myself from Eric and went to retrieve a towel. I started speaking before I came back into the living room, "I'm glad you're home, and that was wonderful, but I would like to talk to you about some stuff. Like, fair warning, but Pam is probably going to give you some shit tomorrow…" and when I looked at Eric, he was sleeping soundly on my couch. He looked so peaceful; I didn't have the heart to wake him. When I cleaned him, he hardly stirred. I guess his day had finally caught up with him. I pulled on my shirt and panties and went to throw a blanket over him when I decided he looked too good to be sleeping on that couch alone. So, I snuggled into his body pulling the blanket over us both and was reminded of how good it felt to sleep with Eric. Spent and sated, I quickly fell asleep.

…

At an ungodly early hour, I was awakened by wonderful smells wafting from my kitchen. I stretched out long and noticed that I was alone on the couch. When I sat up and looked into the kitchen, I saw Eric putting the finishing touches on a breakfast tray. "Eric?" I said, almost wondering if the last 24 hours had all been a dream.

"Good morning," he greeted and carried the tray over to me on the couch. I quickly sat up and surveyed my breakfast: eggs over easy, bacon, and hash browns with hollandaise sauce. "I hope you don't mind an early breakfast, because I'm still on Swedish time."

"Wow, first I get a 'hi' like I did last night, and now I get a 'good morning' like this? What will 'good afternoon' be like?" I teased.

"Well, you'll just have to wait and find out," Eric smirked and snatched a slice of bacon from my plate.

I ate and although Eric had already eaten his breakfast before I woke, he helped himself to some of mine as well; but since he cooked it, I didn't begrudge him. Once I was full, Eric moved the tray to the coffee table and snuggled next to me.

"We need to talk," I started, weaving my fingers through his.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, sounding a little sad and resigned.

"First, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was such a baby in Sweden, but I was so excited about working on our case over there, and then, not only was I not going to be working on it, but I wasn't going to see you for a month. And I got absolutely no say in any of it. I know you can staff your cases as you see fit, but it still hurt knowing that my opinion was neither needed nor sought."

Using his free hand, Eric wiped his face. "I know and I'm sorry too. I probably could have handled that situation a little better, but Sookie, it was my decision, as well as the managing partners, to make. Notwithstanding our personal relationship, it wouldn't have mattered what you or any associate thought about how the partners needed to allocate talent. And as much as I wanted to keep you with me over there, it just wasn't possible. I really did need you here. And, so you know, you did such a damn fine job handling my cases here that I guarantee that most of my clients are going to prefer to deal directly with you now rather than me… now that they know what a talented and personable lawyer I have working for me," and Eric gave me squeeze.

"Really?" I asked, the disbelief apparent in my voice.

"Really," Eric said firmly.

"Okay," I said and moved on to our next big issue. "How is this secret relationship supposed to work?"

"When we are alone together, especially here in our apartments, it will be like it is now … like it was abroad. We are just Eric and Sookie. But publicly, and especially in the office, everything has to stay at a professional level. I know I'm asking a lot of you Sookie, but this really is for your benefit as well as my own. We can see how things progress and if all goes well, then once your reputation as the remarkable attorney that you are is established, then we can go public."

"Gee Eric, you make me sound like I'm an IPO," I whined.

"Please don't misunderstand my reasons." Eric turned me so that he was sure I was looking him in the eye. "I'm not ashamed of you. Don't ever think that. If I was certain your reputation would not be tarnished by our relationship, I would not hesitate to let the world know you are mine. But I won't risk it. For now, let's see how it goes and let it be our secret."

Resigned to his plan, I said "Yeah, about that. Pam knows."

"What?" Eric asked slightly shocked.

"I couldn't keep it from her, and let's face it, given how well she knows you, do you really think you could have kept it from her too?"

"No, I suppose you're right. I'll talk with her about it today."

"Yeah, about that, I sort of did already and she's agreed to keep our secret, but she said she was going to let you know exactly what she thinks of this plan," I warned.

Eric chuckled and said, "Yeah, I imagine she will. I'll still talk to her," and I could tell by the resignation in his voice, he was looking forward to that conversation about as much as a root canal.

"Okay, we'll see how it goes. If this is what it takes to be with you, I'll try," I said, and I meant it. "So, what's going on with our case?"

"I don't want to talk shop a lot right now. I'll just say there is a lot of data we're going to have to sift through."

"And by 'we' I'm guessing you mean me?" I said shooting him a sideways look, unable to contain my smile.

"Yes my dear, you," Eric smiled. "You are going to learn the joys of mass document review. I've brought back mirror copies of all of the relevant hard drives, and scanned documents for your review. I've also video-recorded all of the client interviews, so you'll need to review, summarize and index those as well."

"Yes sir, Mr. Northman, sir," I said with a little salute. "I suppose that since I have so much work to do today, I better go and get myself ready for work," and I started to get up from the couch.

"Not so fast, Ms. Stackhouse. I haven't finished properly saying 'good morning' to you yet," he rasped, pulling me back down to him.

And it was a good morning indeed.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 – Melt My Heart to Stone

After a long, hot shower, Eric and I arrived at the office at about the same time. We rode up in the elevator together and parted at our offices, with a small nod and smile. Even after our short time together, I found myself wanting our parting to be a little more intimate – a peck on the cheek, a squeeze of his hand, a small hug, or even sweet words, but I knew none of that would be possible. No, we were at the office and Operation Secret Relationship was in full effect. I would have to work hard to keep that in mind and watch my actions accordingly.

Eric wasn't kidding when he said there would be a lot of information to sift through for our case. I had just started going through our key players' emails and decided that we might have to hire a predictive coding company to go through the remainder of the information. Predictive coding involves having a computer program sort through all of the information looking for keys words and players in order to find relevant documents. There was no way I could manage reviewing all of this information by myself. Of course, we may have to first meet and confer with the opposing party regarding predictive coding, since they might balk if every single document isn't individually reviewed, but I'd leave that to Eric. After several hours sorting through emails, I stretched my arms long overhead and let out a groan. Shaking myself a little, I got up and walked next door to Eric's office.

After confirming he wasn't on the phone, I said his name to make my presence known.

"Come in and take a seat," Eric said, slowly pulling his eyes away from his computer.

"Remind me not to send you any personal emails from work," I said in a hushed voice.

"What?" Eric asked, with a confused look on his face. "Close the door," he said, thrusting his chin towards to the door.

I got up, shut the door, and then returned to my seat, plopping down. "Well, Mr. Berger, our company CEO, is not only sleeping with his secretary, but also his top sales woman. Neither knows of the other, but his wife certainly suspects something is going on," I said with a smirk.

"Ah, I see," Eric said, shaking his head. "Work emails?"

"Yep," I said, popping my "p." "Oh, and his secretary was pregnant last year, or so she tells her sister, and had an abortion. She never told Mr. Berger about it. Of course, none of this matters to our case. It will just be highly embarrassing and personally devastating to Mr. Berger and his many lady friends when it all comes out. But, as far as our anti-trust case goes, so far there isn't anything that I can see that suggests we engaged in any anti-competitive activity. However, I would like to hire a predictive coding company. There is just too much data to individually sift through."

"What if I pull in Alcide and a couple of contract lawyers to help out with the document review?" Eric asked.

"With all of the terabytes of information you brought back for me? I don't know?" I said, mulling it over. "It may be cost prohibitive."

"I see. How does the cost of attorney time compare to predictive coding?" he pressed.

"I'm not sure. I'd have to ask around. Also, the plaintiffs may complain if they don't think every piece of information is being reviewed by a human being; but there is a lot of case law supporting the use of predictive coding in appropriate cases, even splitting the costs among the parties in some instances."

"Okay, why don't you run a cost comparison and if it is more cost effective to do predictive coding, I'll talk to the client and if they agree, I'll bring it up with the plaintiffs' lawyers."

"Great," I said with a broad smile, quite pleased with my contributions to our case.

Eric gave me a very suggestive smile, "You know, you're really fucking hot when you talk about predictive coding."

"Oh really?" I feigned, unaware. "Predictive coding, predictive coding, predictive coding," I teased.

"You make the law sound so sexy," he teased right back.

I got up and walked around to his side of the desk, positioning myself between his legs, and placing my hands on the arm of his chair, I leaned down until our noses were almost touching, our eyes locked. "Too bad we're at the office and keeping our relationship underwraps. Otherwise, I'd show you sexy," I cooed and I darted out my tongue and licked his lips. Then I stood up abruptly and walked out of Eric's office. Just before I turned towards my own office, I glanced over to Eric and saw him sitting, eyes wide and mouth open, and I couldn't help but smile.

…

The next week continued in much the same way. I'd sleep over at Eric's apartment, or he'd sleep at mine, and we would show each other exactly how we felt about each other … over and over and over again. At work, behind closed doors, we'd tease each other but I never let things go too far – just a stolen kiss, embrace, or caress. If we let it go too far, I didn't think I could contain the words and sounds that that man could make me utter. While I wanted everyone to know that Eric was mine, I had to admit that sneaking around at the office was fun, adventurous and a little naughty. It certainly made coming home interesting, especially after depriving ourselves all day.

However, Amelia was coming today for a long weekend visit, as promised, and I knew the little routine Eric and I created would have to be put on the back burner. Sure, I had told Amelia about Eric; after all, she is my best friend. But she is also my guest, and I would never leave her alone overnight so that I could be with my boyfriend. The only downside to Amelia's visit was that it would be during Valentine's Day, not that Eric and I had any plans. I didn't know what, if anything, Eric had planned for us, but I knew we wouldn't be going out to dinner or anything like that, since we were keeping things on the down low.

I had just walked into my office Thursday morning when Eric popped his head in. "Sookie, when you get settled in here, would you come and see me?" he asked.

"Sure thing Eric," I said as he headed back to his office. I docked my laptop, stowed my purse and walked into Eric's office a moment later. "You needed me?" I asked.

"I always need you Sookie," he said, his eyes shining brightly. "Shut the door." I did as he asked and sat down in the chair opposite his desk. "So, your friend is flying in this afternoon and then you're taking off until Monday, right?"

"That's right, I mean, unless you need me for something here. She's a lawyer too, so if there is work to be done, she'd understand," I offered.

"No, you should enjoy your time off. Anything here at work can wait," he dismissed with a shake of his hand, "but you know, today is Valentine's Day."

"Yes, I know that," I said, and while I still didn't know exactly what that meant for us, the butterflies fluttering through my stomach didn't seem to care, not one little bit.

"I know we can't go out for Valentine's Day, and for that I apologize, but I'd like to make it up to you. Maybe you could come by apartment tonight, say at 10pm?"

"Ten o'clock tonight? Isn't that a little late?" I wasn't sure what he had in mind. A late night booty call? While we never said that we loved each other, I knew I meant more to him than that.

"Well, I don't want to take away too much time from your friend, but I also know you don't have to work tomorrow, so yeah, 10:00 tonight, maybe for a couple of hours. I'd like to see you if that's okay," he said and his expression was so expectant and hopeful.

I turned over his invitation in my head for a minute and then said, "Let me talk to Amelia. I think I can manage stopping by for a few hours, but I can't stay the night. I don't want to be rude to my friend."

"Of course not. If I can only get you for a couple of hours, then I'll take it," he smiled.

"Okay, then I'll see you tonight."

…

I met Amelia at the airport that afternoon. As soon as we saw each other, she immediately came running up to hug me, almost knocking me over in the process. "Oh God Sook! Let me look you over!" she yelled, holding me out at arms' length checking me over from head to toe. "I know you said you were fine after your plane crash, and I know I saw you on web cam, but just needed to see you live and in person to know that you are truly okay. You are okay, aren't you? I mean, you look great, but looks can be deceiving. Am I rambling now?" Ames rushed out.

"Yes and yes," I smiled.

"Damn litigator. I should have known better than to ask you simple yes or no questions. Right, open ended questions only from now on. What have you been doing with yourself…. I mean other than doing your hot, sexy, partner boyfriend," she waggled her brows.

"Ames!" I shouted, looking around to see if anyone had heard her.

"Oh for the love of god woman, you're a grown ass woman. You have sex. Big deal. Now dish."

"I am not going to talk to you about this, now or later. You hear?" I chastised.

"Fine, sounds like I need to ply you with alcohol in order to get you to spill," and we both laughed and then walked off arm in arm to get Amelia's bags. Even though she was only here for a long weekend, she still checked two bags. I'd hate to see how much luggage she needed for a weeklong trip. By the time we got her bags and went to my apartment, which she completely gushed over, we needed to get ourselves ready for dinner and drinks. Of course, I wanted to take her to Merlotte's, since it was the local watering hole and I wanted her to meet some of my work friends and of course, Sam.

We walked into Merlotte's and it was just about the end of the work day, so the place was still a little slow. Amelia had dressed me in one of her dresses, a clingy red wrap around dress that tied at the waist. It had long sleeves but I still needed a coat since it was winter. She also made me wear a pair of her insanely expensive red strappy heels. I hoped and prayed I wouldn't get the heel caught in a sidewalk grate. Amelia was wearing a cute black strapless dress that hit just above the knee with a pair of silver heels and a red wrap. We looked like a couple of ladies ready to hit the town and paint it red. Little did everyone know, we were only shooting for dinner and drinks at Merlotte's, then a night of watching sappy romance movies, like The Notebook, that is, until I had to go to Eric's.

We walked over and got a high top table near the bar. Sam immediately saw us and stepped over to greet us. "Ladies, don't you look lovely. Sam Merlotte," Sam said introducing himself to Amelia, with his hand outstretched.

Amelia eyed Sam up and down and said "Amelia Broadway. Pleasure to meet you Sam."

Oh boy, I could see how tonight was going to go. "Sookie, you look as beautiful as ever, and you look a picture Ms. Broadway. You ladies waiting for your Valentine's dates?" Sam asked.

"Oh no, just us girls tonight. We're going to see what mischief we can get into," Amelia taunted.

"Well, I have to work tonight, so I hope any mischief that the two of you get into, you get into it right here at Merlotte's." Was Sam flirting? And if so, with who? Both of us? It was hard to tell.

"Thanks Sam. I'm afraid mischief is limited to dinner and drinks tonight. Sorry to disappoint," I smiled.

"Well, that's alright. I got a band coming in later tonight. I hope you guys can stick around. In the meantime, can I get you ladies a drink?"

"Two Cosmos," Amelia chirped and Sam went off to fetch our drinks.

We sat there for a while sipping our drinks and looking over the menu. We both decided on chicken salads and a couple of different appetizers to snack on while we drank. The band had just started setting up when I noticed a tall handsome blonde man walk into Merlotte's. I turned to look and saw Eric walking in … and he had a tall, beautiful woman in a sexy green mini dress on his arm. I immediately lost my appetite.

**A/N: Don't hate me because of how this chapter ends! Eric will have some explainin' to do! I called this Chapter Melt My Heart to Stone because 1) I love Adele, and 2) it seemed fitting, especially in setting up the next chapter, which I can proudly say is written and which I'll post, probably by the weekend. A big shout out to Tabularasa88 for proofing my work and helping make it better. **


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: So, the rumor is that fanfic is doing housekeeping and may take down any story it deems too risque. I've been saving my stories on a thumb drive and if that happens then I'll set up a blog, probably on wordpress. However, I'm open to suggestions if any of you have good blog formats or platforms that you use. **

**Thanks to tabularasa88 for her wonderful pre-reads. She is a rock star at keeping me on task and helping make sure I'm not off on some wild tangent. **

Chapter 28 – Grit

Seeing Eric walk in with that stunning woman knocked the wind right out of me. I couldn't breathe. I was frozen, locked in place, and I'm sure my face drained of all color. Amelia and I had been talking rather animatedly when I was tore from our conversation by the image before me. At first, she was confused, and said my name a few times, trying to call me back to myself, but after a moment, she too froze, and then she slowly turned and followed my gaze to my boyfriend… and his date.

"Sookie, isn't that… I mean he looks like Eric. At least, he looks like how Eric looks in his bio picture on your firm's website. Does he have a brother?" she asked, clearly as confused as I was.

Finally, I slowly came out of my frozen state and said, "Nope. He's an only child. And yes, that is Eric, my Eric, and apparently that is his date." Just then, Eric's gaze fell on me and Amelia and I saw his body go rigid, his jaw stiffen. After a tense, awkward moment, he placed his hand on the small of his date's back and guided her to a table across the room from me. He sat facing me and it was as if he was trying to talk to me with his eyes, they were so expressive. However, I don't speak eye. I had no idea what, if anything, he was trying to say. In fact, he was nothing but a blur in my vision as my eyes began to fill with tears.

"What the fuck Sookie!" Amelia protested. "I thought you said he wanted to see you tonight? What, after his fucking date?! Uh-uh, no way in hell is that going to happen. Give me your drink, I'm going to go and throw it in his fucking face," Amelia seethed.

"No Amelia!" I urged, grabbing her wrist to keep her from leaving our table. I had no idea what game Eric was playing, and while on an instinctive, primal level I wanted to do just what Amelia had suggested, I knew I couldn't. "Our relationship is supposed to be a secret. I can't make a scene, not here, and neither can you. There are too many people here that I know, people in the local legal community. I can't make a scene, I just can't…." I said, as I choked back by tears. _Pull it together Stackhouse! _ I silently coached. _Deep breaths… Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… and release. _After mentally talking myself off the ledge that was a major crying jag, I took all of the hurt and pain, put it in a box, and locked it away. If I could survive Uncle Bartlett, then I could survive having my boyfriend apparently cheat on me. Once that was done, I put on my fake smile and said, "I'm okay. I'm going to be okay." Whether I was letting Amelia know this, or whether I was trying to convince myself, I wasn't sure, but it caused Amelia to settle back down in her seat and she let out an exasperated breath.

"Well, fuck him. Do you want to leave?" she asked, concern filling her voice.

"No, I don't know what he is playing at, but I'm not going to run out of here like I've done something wrong. It may hurt like hell, but I'm going to stand my ground," I said, firm in my resolve. And I meant everyone word of it.

"Well, all I have to say is that it's his loss. Look, you look hot as hell, you're now free tonight, and you don't have to work tomorrow, so we are going to tear this shit up. You hear me Sook!"

Just then our waitress came to check on us. Before she could even ask if we needed fresh drinks, I said "Whiskey, neat," without emotion. Amelia just looked at me with a raised brow.

"That's what I'm talking about," her grin spreading wide. "Whiskey Sookie is coming out to play tonight!" she cheered. "Make that two!"

As soon as our drinks came, we downed them. The sting of the alcohol helped numb the pain in my heart, so we ordered another round. By the time we finished that round, I was feeling comfortably numb and could function a little bit better, notwithstanding the fact that Eric was boring a hole in my head with his gaze. Well, Ames was right. Fuck him and his crazy game.

Just about that time, Alcide came into the bar with a friend in tow and they headed straight for me and Amelia. "Sookie! I'm so happy to see you. Damn girl, look at you!" Alcide said with an appreciative eye.

"I'm glad to see you too Alcide," I said, focusing all of my attention on my friends. "I want you to meet my very good friend Amelia Broadway. We went to LSU together and now Amelia works at McKenzie Phelps in Chicago."

"How do you do," Alcide said, turning on his southern charm. "This here is my friend Tray Dawson. Tray is my dad's right hand man in my family's construction business in Mississippi." Tray, like Alcide, was a mountain of a man, dark with dark curly hair. I couldn't help but wonder what they must feed these boys in Mississippi.

"Ladies," Tray said, taking our hands and kissing our knuckles. Lord help us, southern men sure knew how to charm, and right now, it was just what I need to take my mind off my personal misery.

"What kind of lawyering do you do up north Ms. Broadway," Tray asked.

"Why, please call me Amelia," she said, literally batting her eyes. "I do M&A work," and after drawing a blank look from Tray, she clarified, "Mergers and acquisitions, and I do think I see something I might like to merge and acquire tonight." Well, no one could accuse Amelia of being shy or subtle. "Dance with me," she said, more as a command than a request.

"Why, it would be an honor," Tray said, giving her a short bow. Then he took her by the hand and lifted her from her chair. As she walked towards the make shift dance floor, Amelia gave me a pointed look, then looked at Alcide, and then she bugged her eyes out at me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. While I may not speak eye, after having lived with Amelia for three years, I knew exactly what that look meant.

"I do think our friends are hitting it off quite well," Alcide said with a chuckle.

"I think that is probably the biggest understatement I've heard all year," I said, forcing a small smile.

"Well, it is only February," and his reminder of what day it was caused my smile to falter and I shot a glance over at Eric. His eyes were locked on me and his gaze was so heated I thought I would combust. Well, too bad for him. "I thought you would have been out on a date tonight," Alcide said, bringing my attention back to him.

"Me too," I mumbled.

"What?" Alcide asked a little louder to be heard over the band, which had just started its set.

"Oh, I said 'no can do.' You know I've been busy with my big trial coming up in a few months. No time for dating," I said.

"Sookie, what's the point of living to work? You gotta find a little time to have fun. Come on, let's dance," he said, gripping my hand and popping me off my seat. I shot one more glance at Eric and I thought his teeth would crumble with as hard as his jaw was clenched, but I couldn't spare a moment to pity him when he had such a gorgeous date to occupy him and his time.

Alcide spun me around when we got on the dance floor, pulling all of my attention back to him. The great thing about dancing is that there is no time for talking. I didn't want to put on the façade, I just wanted to forget my heartache, even if for a short time. Sure, I knew I'd have to deal with it later, but right now, I just wanted to get lost in the movement of dancing. And Alcide was a fine dancer for such a big man. He shook and shimmied… twirled and spun me… and when it came to slow dancing, he pulled me close and held me tight. After fighting the initial shock of being held close by someone who wasn't Eric, I finally just let go. I rested my head on Alcide's chest and inhaled his strong masculine scent, taking comfort in his friendship.

After a while, we pulled ourselves from the dance floor and went back to our table. We pulled over a couple of chairs for Alcide and Tray and had another round of drinks. At this point, with the drink and friendship, I found I was coping okay. "Hey, you gals sure know how to dance, and while this band is alright, how about we head over to this new place a few blocks away. It's called Wolf's Den and it is supposed to have a hot DJ," Alcide suggested.

"Excuse me," a low, deep voice interrupted, and I felt my heart leap up to my throat, threatening to choke me.

"Mr. Northman, good to see you," Alcide said, although his tone indicated he was anything but happy to see Eric.

"Alcide … Sookie," Eric said, his eyes falling to me. "Sookie, do you mind if we have a brief word. I forgot to ask you something about our case before you left today."

"Oh, I don't know Mr. Northman. Seeing how you're on a _date_, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow."

"Sookie …" Eric started, but then he was interrupted himself by said date.

"Eric, can we go now? I want to go. This place is boring," the date whined and she clung to his arm like he was her life preserver in a sea of mediocrity. She was even more stunning close up, with piercing green eyes to match her dress, set off by her dark brown hair. She was tall too, probably about 5'9" if I had to guess. In fact, she fit just perfecting under Eric's arm as she demonstrated by niggling her way under his arm.

I don't know what came over me, but I suddenly thrust my hand out to the date and said, "Hi! Sookie Stackhouse. Alcide here and I work with Mr. Northman. And you must be …"

"Oh," the date said, seemingly noticing me and my friends for the first time. "Dawn, Dawn Green," and reluctantly, Dawn shook my hand with a weak and ineffectual grip, almost as if she thought she would get cooties from the contact.

"So Dawn, have you known Eric long?" I tried to ask nonchalantly, but even Amelia gave me a raised brow at my poor attempt.

"We've known each other, for a while," she said with a coy smile.

"Oh, so are you a lawyer too?" I asked. I don't know where my burst of boldness came from, but I just couldn't help myself.

"Uh, look at me," she said, her voice full of disdain and loathing. "No, I'm a model." Of course she was. I suppose our blank expressions made her feel she needed to go on and provide us with her curriculum vitae, "Sports Illustrated, Swimsuit Edition, 2012 and 2013, Victoria's Secret New York Fashion Show 2011, 2012 and 2013, Elle magazine …"

Amelia then abruptly cut her off, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it. You're pretty. Big fucking deal," and she shot her whiskey back fast. After slamming her shot glass down on the table, Amelia turned her sights on Eric. "Hello Mr. Northman. Amelia Broadway. I'm Sookie's best friend. She's told me so much about you," Amelia had a wicked grin as she shook his hand.

I went to kick Amelia to remind her to hold her tongue. All I needed was for her, in her drunken state, to spill the beans about me and Eric, but I must have missed.

"Ow Sookie, did you just kick me?" Alcide asked, rubbing his shin.

"What? Uh, no… well, maybe… sorry," I finally confessed. Despite my poor aim, Amelia seemed to take the hint.

"Well, it's been… real… Eric, Dawn. Alcide, what did you say about a club near here? I think Sookie and I would love to go with you and Tray and dance the night away, and then see where else the night takes us," Amelia said with a smile at Tray, who I thought couldn't jump up from his seat fast enough.

"Mr. Northman, I am sure we can talk about … our case … tomorrow during normal business hours. Even though I'm off, I will give you a call then. Goodnight." I said fighting the strain in my voice.

As everyone had started to gather their coats and purses, and since Dawn was tugging on Eric's arm whining to leave, Eric reluctantly let the matter go. And when he left, he left with my heart. All I had left was my self-respect and dignity, and by god, we were going dancing. They could mourn the loss of my heart when I got home tonight.

Amelia, Tray, Alcide and I stayed out dancing until about 2am and then we went to get pancakes at Waffle House. Despite all of Amelia's heavy flirting, I knew she wouldn't leave to spend the night with Tray, although they both clearly wanted that. She knew my heart had just been trampled on and being the good friend she was, she wasn't going to let me go home alone tonight. So, we said goodnight to Alcide and Tray at the main door to my apartment building. Of course, Tray and Amelia were already making plans to get together Saturday too. I had a feeling they would try to rope in me and Alcide as well, but as good of a time as I had tonight with Alcide, I'm not on the market. Sure, that didn't mean I was off the market necessarily. Quite frankly, I didn't know what my relationship status was anymore. But even if Eric and I were over… or whatever we were to each other… I wasn't about to jump into something with Alcide just because he is nice and convenient. I may not have a lot of relationship experience, but I knew that I was unavailable emotionally, and Alcide is too nice of a guy to make him think otherwise. When we parted, Alcide gave, me a tight hug and kissed my forehead and then Amelia and I headed off to my apartment.

Once we passed the guys, she gave me a firm hug and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I know. You're a good friend Amelia."

"I love you Sook. Let's get some sleep and you can deal with the asshole tomorrow."

But it turned out I wouldn't have to wait even that long. As soon as we stepped off the elevator and turned towards my door, there was Eric, sitting on the floor in front of my apartment door, with a worn expression and a big bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand.


End file.
